


Another Pine To Burn

by XxDecipheringGravityFallsxX



Category: Gravity Falls
Genre: ALL THE DAMN ANGST, ALL THE DAMN STANGST, Angst and Feels, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Family Angst, Family Feels, Heavy Angst, MY RP PARTNER AND I AREN'T SORRY, Pines Family Fluff, Read at Your Own Risk, SO MUCH DAMN ANGST, Stangst, TRIGGER WARNING: Hospital, Trigger Warning: Fire, WE ANGSTING IT UP IN THIS BITCH, WE TAKE NO RESPONSIBILITY IN THE UTTER OBLITERATION OF YOUR FEELS
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-11-19
Updated: 2019-05-30
Packaged: 2019-08-26 03:26:39
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 77,402
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16673818
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/XxDecipheringGravityFallsxX/pseuds/XxDecipheringGravityFallsxX
Summary: Another Pine To Burn.This Eventide It's Now His Turn.To Feel The Flames And Suffocate.Such Is The Irony; Of The Rising Embers Of Fate.





	1. Until Everything Burns, While Everyone Screams, Watching It All Fade Away

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Another Pine To Burn.  
> This Eventide It's Now His Turn.  
> To Feel The Flames And Suffocate.  
> Such Is The Irony; Of The Rising Embers Of Fate.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for checking out our newest Fanfiction, yes OUR! Because this fanfiction is an rp turned fanfiction yet again. 
> 
> My amazing friend Ivy has worked with me to breathe the burning light of fire into the fic, to make it a reality! In the rp I rped Mabel, Ford, Candy, Pacifica, and Soos. Ivy rped Stan, Dipper, Wendy, and Grenda! So please give Ivy her due credits as well! This wouldn't have been possible without her.
> 
> Anyways we do hope you enjoy the first chapter of Another Pine To Burn!
> 
> HAVE FUN : D

The sun, that was once brightly illuminating Gravity Falls, dove swiftly beneath the native pine trees of the beloved town. Tranquility rested as everything seemed in place. Leaves crackled confidently as the chattering of a rather large group made their way to the home.  

 

"-You should have seen what Dipper caught that one time we went fishing! Oh my gosh-! Dipper couldn't wipe that smile off of his face for the entire day!"  

 

"Mabel- please don't-"  

 

"Ooh ooh! Tell me more!" 

 

 "Yeah! Come on Mabel! Tell us, tell us-"  

 

The tranquility was rather broken in its own way when they all showed up, however. The door was pressed forward as the creaky hinges barely held it open. The floorboards had also seen better days.  

 

"Oh, please!"  

 

"Come on Pacifica, where's all of your fun?"  

 

"I've caught like five different, much better fish that whatever is in that stupid photo."  

 

The building was barely filled with people when they arrived. As far as they knew, behind the quite heavy vending machine, great-uncle Ford remained in work, researching some specimen by himself. In the room ahead of them, was Grunkle Stan, currently in the middle of an episode of Duchess.  

 

Soos was entering the room swiftly, carrying drinks, and Wendy was leaning against the back door in another room, sipping and taking a break from that show.  

 

"Oh, hey kids."  

 

"Hey Grunkle Stan!"  

 

"Hey Mr. Pines!" 

 

Dipper ended up excusing himself from the all-girl sleepover, going up to his bedroom. He jumped onto his bed, looking over a book, it wasn't his Ducktective book he'd been searching for but it would do for now.

 

Mabel, on the other hand, ended up getting in a sort of argument with her friends, if only about who was the coolest out of her Grunkles, and came up with a great idea as she headed into the kitchen and towards the vending machine. 

 

Mabel excitedly input the code, and practically flew down the steps in her descent. The hyper active thirteen-year-old found her Grunkle Ford, sitting on his chair, scribbling down some notes about the new mythical specimen he had been studying for nearly the entire day. He had been so busy that time rapidly flew away, and he hadn't any idea that he'd been hard at work from eight this morning to approximately ten in the evening. 

 

He was ripped back into startled attention when Mabel leaped into his lap with reckless abandon. Her babbles so incoherent that Ford nearly missed what she was asking of him, but he'd known her long enough to pick up on her words when she was this excited, and he understood that she wanted to hear about his time in the Multiverse. 

 

Ford gave his great niece a soft grin and ruffled his hand through her hair, letting out an amused and low chuckle. He complied to her request and began trudging down memory lane, a few months ago he never would have even considered imparting his stories onto his family.  

 

Even while he and Stan had been sailing like they’d always dreamed of, Ford would clam up whenever Stan tried to ask about his thirty years in the multiverse. It took Stan a few months of steady work, but he finally got Ford to open up about his inter-dimensional travels.

 

Though, there were somethings Ford had yet to reveal to his family, namely all the morally gray actions he had to partake in. Most of which are actions he had no choice but to take, for his very several depended upon it. He had resigned himself that he’d never speak of those experiences. For there was blood on his hands, when he had to kill another so that he may persevere. 

 

Of course, all of those killings he’d done were justified and in self-defense. But the very fact that he’d taken lives, disturbed him deeply into the very core of his tainted soul. Those creatures and beings were living and breathing souls, with their own thoughts and feelings.

 

Taking their lives, hadn’t been pleasant, even if they had been attempting to end his. At any rate he concealed those stories, and instead told his family stories that were full of daring endeavors, and about all the allies, and the fascinating creatures he’d come across. As Mabel listened, the time ticked by swiftly, and she’d become so enchanted with Ford’s tales that she’d forgotten about her friends still upstairs. 

* * *

 

* * *

Her friends, Candy, Grenda and Pacifica decided to bide their time waiting for Mabel, by reading some age inappropriate romance novels. Of course, the novels were none other than Wolf-Man-Bear-Chest. Candy was having the time of her life, blushing deep red as she listened to Grenda read the enchanting tales to her and Pacifica.  

 

Pacifica was trying to enjoy herself, but honestly everything about the books were cringe worthy, but she had made progress in being friends to Candy and Grenda. So, the very least she could do was humor them, also there was someone else that drew her to the Shack.

 

That certain someone was always on her mind, and she felt light as air when around him. Of course, that being Dipper, but it was like she’d ever confess her feelings to him. Honestly, she doubted he even felt the same for her. He didn’t act all nervous and awkward around her, like he did around other girls he liked, like a certain red head.  

 

And even though he had moved on from her, Pacifica still hadn’t made an attempt to reveal her feelings in any shape or form. The night dragged on as everyone busied themselves with their activities. 

 

Then the grandfather clock on the staircase on the main floor chimed loudly, signaling it was midnight. And that they should all be heading to bed, for tomorrow was a Monday. Which meant the shack would be open for costumers, and everyone had taken up some sort of job in the Shack to keep the business running smoothly.  

 

Soos went back to being a repairman when Stan was back in town, Wendy and Melody took shifts running the cash register, though right now Melody was still in Portland, and she wouldn’t be arriving in Gravity Falls until next month. Mabel and Dipper helped their Grunkle Stan make new attractions for the Shack. 

 

And Ford.... well he....  

 

He protected the Shack from anomalies that wandered too close. Yeah, that’s the ticket. He was the designated pest control. He didn’t often have to do that job, but whenever he did so he did it well enough.

 

Honestly though, Ford didn’t really have a job to do in the shack. Not that anyone minded of course, but even still he’d have to turn in for the night as well. There was much to do on his schedule tomorrow. However, fate had other plans, Ford wouldn’t be doing what he would like come tomorrow. 

 

None of them ever would have suspected that such a tranquil night as this was about to go so horridly awry. 

* * *

 

* * *

In the attic, Dipper had finished up the Sibling Brothers novel, and was now wandering his room in search of a book, he seemed to be coming up fruitless. It was that copy of Ducktective that he'd been wanting to read ever since he settled down.

 

He seems to have misplaced somewhere, starting to get impatient, Dipper glanced over to Mabel's part of the room, as if she mistakenly grabbed it. He didn't have much luck there, either. He exited his room, but before he did, he looked outside of the triangular window, more out of curiosity than anything. 

 

The eventide sky was beautiful. Just looking at it made him feel tired. He saw Wendy, who must have gone outside at some point, now sitting on the porch below, sipping a drink. Before she settled the empty drink on the porch and kicked it towards the trashcan, as if she were attempting to accomplish some sort of trick. It hit the rim of the can, before it tumbled and fell off. "Damn it-!"  

 

Dipper chuckled and shook his head, he could have stood there and waited to see what Wendy was trying to do, but he needed to find that book. The staircase didn't seem to like him tonight, groaning and complaining under the young boy's weight as he descended, wondering to himself where his book had gotten to. He peeked into the living room, seeing the three of the girls reading this certain story, with Grenda being the main reader, he supposed. Stan seemed uninterested, still watching the same episode from earlier.  

 

Dipper wandered toward Stan, causing Stan to pause the episode, it must have been pre-recorded. Dipper had thought about doing that with Ducktective, but he'd never got around to it.  

 

"'Hmm? Wassup kid?" Grunkle Stan mumbled, seemingly annoyed, he had other things to be doing. Definitely. Like watching The Duchess. Yeah. That.  

 

"Grunkle Stan? Have you happened to see my... umm... book anywhere?" Dipper tapped his foot anxiously.  

 

"M'what? The stupid journal? Poindexter prob' has it n-"  

 

"No, no not that one-"  

 

"Oh, yah nerd book. I think I saw Soos dragging it around earlier when cleanin' the shop to start fixin', err, somethin'." Stan shrugged, before turning the episode back on to play. "Lemme know if you fin' it."  

 

"O-Okay." Dipper turned back and went into the shop, which Soos decided to maintain tonight, passing by Grenda, who was making a big deal over a dramatically romantic scene of that sappy novel of hers.

* * *

 

* * *

There was movement outside the Shack, a few cars had approached silently and stopped a short way down the road that led to the Shack. Some men in all black hopped out of the vehicles, and they slipped into the shadowy cover of the woods. They trekked through the woods until they got to the tree line, their gazes settled on the shack. Their voices just low whispers as they waited to make their move.  

 

“That the place boss? It’s so run down!”  

 

“Yes, that is the place, now be silent. Our ol’ pal Hal, or rather Stan Pines is in there, I’m sure o’it!” 

 

“Whateveh ya say, Rico.”  

 

“Can’t believe that ol' swindler is still kickin’.” Rico grumbled lowly, “Pisses me off he ain’t paid off his debt to me yet.” He took out a match box and cigar from his pocket, and lit the cigar, placing it into his mouth and puffing out the smoke. “Yeh got what we need Antonio?”  

 

“It’s right here boss!” Antonio assured him. “All five beautiful cans of’em, tonight’s gonna be a burnin' hell of a'time!”  

 

“Patience, all in good time my dear friends. Soon as the lights go off, we make our move.” 

* * *

 

* * *

All the while inside the Shack, no one was any the wiser to the threat looming just beyond the tree line. Grenda had finished the ninth novel in the series, and was going onto read the tenth. At that point Pacifica excused herself to go find something to eat. Candy was lying on a beanbag, nodding off but waking up whenever her head dipped backwards off the bean bag.  

 

Soos was restocking the clothing racks in the giftshop. He’d discarded the Ducktective book on a nearby shelf. “Dooo dooo doooo doooo dooooo! Restocking the clothing rack at night! Feeling alright!” He tapped his foot to the beat in his head. 

* * *

 

* * *

Mabel and Ford were still down in the basement as Ford droned on about his time in the multiverse. He was showing her all sorts of gadgets and gizmos, and souvenirs and such that he’d brought back with him.

 

They were having a grand time, Mabel’s mouth moving a million miles a second as she bombarded him with question after question. Ford answered them all for her, pleased to do so. He had missed his Niece, sure it was nice to video chat on the internet with Dipper and Mabel, while he and Stan had been on the Stan O’ War. But it didn’t compare to seeing them in person, nothing ever would. 

* * *

 

* * *

Stan grumbled drowsily in his chair, as the episode came to an end, the credits now rolling down the screen. His mind sluggishly recounted some stuff, before he realized he'd apparently napped through the end of the episode.

 

And he was now just waking up from the short doze he'd taken. "Hot Belgian waffles! I slept though m'favorite show-" Stan turned to the left, frowning heavily. "Kids, I thought I told yeh to wake me up if-" His voice trailed off, looking at an almost asleep kid, which he thinks is Candy? Dipper and Mabel were nowhere in sight, and speaking of Mabel...

 

Mabel had barely even introduced her friends to Stan, seeing as Stan still had slight memory gaps, he'd forgotten a lot about Mabel's choice of friends. The customary re-introductions however had been rushed, before Mabel dashed off to do who knows what.

 

Stan certainly wasn't in the loop of what his spontaneous niece was up to. His gaze wandered away from Candy and settled on Mabel's other friend, Grenda right? She seemed way too invested in her novel, way more than could considered mentally healthy.

 

Wait a minute, someone else was no longer present in the room. Where was that Northwest girl, Pacifica? She was the most obvious to pick out of Mabel's friends, anyways. 

 

While he thought about where Pacifica could have gotten herself too, Stan began to realize how worn down he was. He turned to still see credits going on and on. He outstretched his hand towards the remote and nearly turned the off button, before deciding the tv was good background noise and he closed his eyes again, letting himself ease back into slumber. 

 

Grenda was began to nod off mid-reading. Candy was long gone by now, and it didn’t take long for Grenda to follow her friend to Sleep Ville. Her snores rivaling Stan's as she drifted off in her beanbag. The book, unhappily becoming a pillow. 

 

As for Pacifica, she had raided the kitchen and settled on having a peanut butter and jelly sandwich, not really finding anything else appealing in the fridge. After she had consumed the delicious midnight snack, she wandered her way back to Candy and Grenda, realizing that they’d fallen asleep, she decided to lie down as well. She curled up on an unoccupied bean bag, that was probably Mabel’s, and succumbed to her body's demands of repose. 

* * *

 

* * *

**Presently -**

 

Dipper finally found his book, it was on one of the top shelves in the Giftshop. He wished Soos had told him that he had moved it. He balanced on one foot, trying to reach the book. Tall shelves always sucked, but this was just insulting. "Soos! A little help?" 

 

From just outside the Giftshop Wendy’s voice sounded off, "Okay... You can do this.

 

**Kick!**

 

The can satisfyingly landed with a crunch as it made it in.  

 

"YES!" Oh, hell yeah! She was glad that no one really saw her constantly trying to get it in there. She got up and entered the shack, ignoring the tons of empty cans discarded in varying distances around the garbage can.

 

She couldn't help the smug expression. As she entered, she didn't really notice Dipper struggling to reach his book, instead her gaze was on Soos. "Umm, Sorry Soos, might've left a bit of a mess outside." Her mouth went back to a frown.  

 

"If you don't tell on me to Mr. Pines, and clean it up, I'll ummm, pay you back or something." She fled the room and leapt onto the new couch that Soos’s grandmother had placed into the living room, already feeling really tired, but she couldn't seem to get to sleep, so instead she listened to the next episode of Stan’s show. 

 

Soos didn't have any time to reply to Wendy's flurry of explanation, she was gone before he could even blink. Oh well, he wasn't the handyman of the Shack for no reason. He shrugged as Wendy left the room, not really minding too much about the extra work he had to do now. 

 

He loved cleaning stuff up, he was a workaholic in the worst way imaginable. As soon as Wendy left, he finally focused his attention on Dipper.  

 

"Oh uh sure dood!" Soos moved away from the clothes rack, claimed the book off the shelf and handed it back to its rightful owner. "Sorry hambone, probably shoulda asked you if it was okay to borrow your book." He scratched the back of his head, "Y'know how I get when it comes to Ducktective, it's like my favorite tv show and book series, dawg." 

 

Dipper, with Soos's help, finally got his gosh darn book. Afterwards Soos mentioned retiring to the bedroom that Dipper originally won a while ago. Like a year now, thinking about it.

 

He guessed it was officially Soos's room at this point. Dipper took his well-earned book as he looked around and realized he was the last one still up. It was actually getting late, but even still, everyone was asleep earlier than usual, normally the Pines Family stayed up way past midnight. Apparently, it was going to be one of those rare nights that they all crashed and burned sooner, then later. 

 

Before Dipper left the living room, he gently turned off the T.V, and crept upstairs into the attic room that was his and his sister's, albeit quite empty save for himself. Mabel might be still up, or maybe she went to sleep with the other girls, he may have just missed seeing her in his drowsiness. Either way, Dipper put his book down, and headed off to bed, his head growing heavy. He reached out for the lamp light and flicked it. 

 

His light, the last one in the Shack, went out. 

* * *

 

* * *

**Back down in the basement...**

 

Ford's tales had ended, as Mabel began to fade in and out of sleep. Ford had rose from his chair to take her to bed, but he himself was feeling rather worn out from his arduous study session.

 

So, he decided that he'd just put Mabel on a cot that he kept hidden down in a small storage compartment. It was something he hadn't used in a long time, but he was thankful he hadn't decided to pitch it. He placed Mabel on the chair, telling her to stay put as he got the cot out of its storage unit, and then he unfolded it, he grabbed his niece and gently placed her on it, then he took of his trench coat and draped it over her. 

 

He smiled as she muttered a goodnight to him, and then he settled himself down onto the floor, curling up by the cot. He didn't mind sleeping on the floor, in fact he'd go so far as to say the cold floor in the basement was a blessing compared to some of the place he had to slumber while on the run in the Multiverse. 

 

As he laid there, his mind couldn't help but drawing upon the memories he'd made with the kids, with Stan, with Fiddleford, and with some of the townsfolk as well. For so long he'd been alone, for three decades, without so much as a friend to call his own. In the multiverse his only friend had been his shadow. 

 

During those years he couldn't fully trust anyone, not even those he had a tight bond with. Of course, he trusted them to an extent, seeing as they were his allies, however there was always that lingering doubt he'd be betrayed by his allies one day and handed over to Bill on a silver platter.

 

But Bill was vanquished, never again to be a threat to them. And he now had people he trusted so much, that he’d trust them even with his life. He couldn’t believe that just last summer he’d returned to his home dimension, he couldn’t believe that just last Summer Bill almost left the world in ruin. 

 

He couldn't believe that his brother had vanquished the demon that had haunted him mercilessly- well no yes... yes that he could believe. Everything else was so surreal except for his brother becoming a hero, that and getting to know Dipper and Mabel, making amends with Fiddleford, and then sailing the seven seas with Stan. One whole year full of love and happiness.

 

Happiness Ford hadn’t felt since before Stan had been kicked to the curb all those long decades ago. When he decided to ask Stan to go sailing with him, he made a silent vow that he’d love and cherish him for whatever days they had left on this Earth. He’d make certain that Stan knew that despite it all, he hadn’t ever stopped loving him.

 

Even though Ford had been furious with Stan, he hadn’t ever hated him. Not once... not ever. He had thought about him, many times, missing him so.

 

But he had no idea how to contact him, every time he tried tracking him down, it came up with nothing. He had only gotten ahold of his brother through the usage of that magical mailbox he’d found in the woods.

 

That of which was no longer there, according to his Great Nephew. Dipper had shown him his recordings, a little documentary called: Dipper's Guide To The Unexplained.

 

As his eyes began to flutter close, he couldn’t help but realize how damn lucky he was to have them all. He was so damn lucky.  

 

**And grateful.**

* * *

 

* * *

When the last light in the shack had faded out, the dark figures emerged out of the woods, like a feral wolf pack, Rico in the lead. His four other men following closely behind him.

 

They came to a stop near the shack, and then he gestured them to start their retribution. His four men began dumping the cans of gasoline all around the outside wall of the Giftshop, and then he began to dump his own can.  

 

After each can had been emptied of its flammable content, Rico removed the Cigar from his mouth a flicked it towards the shack, and watched as the flames rapidly started climbing up the wood.  

 

**“Lights on, Stan Pines.”**

 

And with that, he and his crew vanished into the night, leaving no trace they’d ever been there. Save for Rico accidentally dropping his cigar box of choice in the yard in his rush to his vehicle, it was a brand that he’d smoked while Stan was under his wing. It was a very rare brand, very exclusive and that cigar box Rico had accidentally dropped in his haste to flee the scene. It would be all the only evidence Stan would need later to realize just whom had set the Shack ablaze.  

 

The fire surged and crackled, greedily consuming the wood in its path. It wouldn’t take long for the entire Shack to go up in flames. 

* * *

 

* * *

Stan's eyelids fluttered open rapidly, there was a faint hint of smoke wafting through the Shack. It was there, and somewhat noticeable. He had a harsh feeling in his gut as he struggled to get out of the chair, cautiously.

 

Avoiding the children, he went to the door where the smoke was the strongest. "What t'hell?..." He creaked the door open, watching the wall of his shop becoming quickly engulfed in flames. Shelves and many other things were already in the process of smoldering and melting. 

 

Stan, startled, stumbled back into the other room, his voice freezing for a second, before he shouted out. "'Hell, there's a FIRE! EVERYONE GET GOING-!" 

 

When he got no response, he once again rose his voice--- 

 

**"GIRLS, GET UP-!"**

 

Stan began to quickly shake the sleeping girls for good measure to make sure they'd wake up, startling them. 

 

Grenda got up shakily, just like the other two. Wendy startled so fast, she stumbled right off the couch and onto the floor. 

 

"Whaaat..." Grenda's groggy voice whined. She was half-awake and extremely out of it. 

 

On the other hand, Wendy stumbled to get up. "What's going on Mr. Pines?!" 

 

"Wendy-" Stan glanced at the extremely growing set of fire, that was close to demolishing the poor Giftshop. "Grab T'kids and get outta here!" 

 

Candy had leaped to her feet at the mention of fire. The young child was absolutely terrified of fire. "Fire!?..... FIRE!?" She squeaked, out as she frantically fumbled around for her glasses, desperate to find them because she couldn't see without them. She finally found them on the floor next to her bean bag. 

 

Pacifica was on her feet in an instant, the least drowsy of the girls seeing as she’d been the last of them to fall asleep, the heat of the fire already warming up the air in the living area. It was like they were pastries cooking in an oven. As she gazed around, she realized that she was unable to locate Mabel, Dipper, Ford or Soos. "Hey where are the others at? We gotta find them, and then get the heck out of here!" 

 

"Mabel said something about going to the basement earlier to see her Grunkle Ford. But she could be upstairs with Dipper right now." Candy replied breathlessly as she shook violently on place. "I don't know where Soos is!" 

 

Presently the blazing fire had almost consumed most of the Giftshop, embers flickering and sputtering as they destroyed everything in their path. And that was cause for immediate alarm, for if the fire consumed the last remaining inches of the Giftshop and if Mabel and Ford were in the basement, then they'd be trapped in the basement with no way out. And they'd surely perish if they stayed down there. 

 

However, there was also Soos and Dipper both in peril. Even though Soos's room was the farthest room away from the living area, the fire had spread to the side of the Shack that would lead to one of his bedroom walls. At the rate the fire was flaring it wouldn't take long for Soos's room to be set ablaze. 

 

Dipper, and possibly Mabel, were in the attic. And smoke fumes rose quickly and if they didn't get Dipper, and Mabel if she was there, out of the attic they'd succumb both to smoke inhalation.  

 

**Overall the situation was chaotic.**

 

Stan looked towards the other rooms. There was a better chance of finding Mabel with Dipper upstairs, and besides smoke inhalation, there really wasn't any other way down if the staircase set aflame, the kids would be trapped if they were up there, and Stan wasn’t about to let that happen. 

 

Second idea was to head to Soos. It shouldn't take that long, and he could help with finding people! Ford... he could usually handle himself, hell, he probably had a little invention just for this situation. Sure, as hell he was going to go in after him, but Ford was the most reliable and capable out of the three.

 

"'Heck, the kids have to get out first-" Wendy started, as though she was implying that she wasn’t going anywhere without Dipper or Mabel. 

 

"An' that means you as well, Wendy! Stay low, and get t'hell outta here with Mabel’s friends! An’ if ya can go wake Soos!" Stan pointed harshly to the front door, which thankfully wasn’t swarming with flames yet. His heart sank as he gave one last look at the fires in the shop, before rushing to the attic. The stairs shook in protest underneath his weight. 

 

**"Dipper! Mabel-"**

 

His voice practically echoed like a boom of thunder into the attic. Dipper, luckily, was waking up sluggishly, albeit upside down with his head on the floor. What made his cut off his voice was the panicked realization that Mabel wasn't with him. 

 

"Grunkle Stan...?" Dipper fell with a thump on the hard wood floor. That woke him up a bit. "Where's the fire, geez-!" 

 

"Dipper, where's Mabel?!” 

 

"Didn't come back up here as far as I know. What's going on?!" 

  

Stan muffled a curse of frustration into his hand, before shouting at Dipper to get down the stairs and out of shack, the stairs already starting to feel like they were boiling. 

 

* * *

 

* * *

 

**As Stan had gone after Dipper, and hopefully Mabel as well---**

 

Wendy had gotten Grenda, Candy and Pacifica to safety, then she had made her way to Soos’s room, and had woken the lovable lug from his slumbering.

 

He had followed Wendy as far as to the back door in the kitchen, because the front door was no longer an option. Soos however told her he was going to remain inside until Stan, Dipper, Mabel and Ford were out of the Shack. He wasn’t about to leave behind those he cared for like he cared for his own family.  

 

So after Wendy fled from the Shack, he waited near the back door, fidgeting nervously in place and hoping that they’d arrive soon. “C’mon doods! Where are you?!” Soos called out frantically. 

* * *

 

* * *

An alarm blared in the basement, jump starting Ford and Mabel both out of their slumbering. It took Ford’s half drowsy mind to figure out what was going on.

 

The Shack was on fire, he had installed an alarm system in the basement to wake him up in case of there ever being a fire. He sprung to his feet and scooped Mabel into his arms, trench coat still wrapped around her, and he wasted no time charging up the stairs. 

 

“G-Grunkle Fo-Ford!?” Mabel yelped in terror, “What’s going on?!” 

 

“The Shack is on fire.” Ford answered bluntly as he reached the top of the steps and flung open the vending machine, he nearly fell down the steps. He had flinched harshly as he realized that the gift shop was nearly devoured and that they only had just enough room to slip into the living room. 

 

“OH MY GOSH! OH MY GOSH! OH MY GOSH!” Mabel yelped as she pressed herself against her Grunkle, both of them narrowly avoiding falling into the flames before them. 

 

Ford turned sharply and headed to the living room entrance. As he rounded into the living room he almost collided into Dipper and Stanley.  Stan, who just reached the bottom of the stairs with Dipper on his heels, turned and abruptly fell backwards, almost getting ran into by Ford and Mabel. 

 

“Dipper!  Grunkle  Stan!” Mabel gasped in relief. “You’re okay! Where is everyone else? Are they okay too?'

 

"Ggh- The kids got out a while ago- Wendy 'pparently has 'em outside." Stan leaned against the doorframe. "Don' think Soos is out." His head shakily turned back towards the kitchen, only to find out a few inches by the back door, Soos was just twiddling his fingers near the fire. 

 

"Soos! What t'hell, we were wondering where you were-" 

 

Stan regarded Soos, before deciding that this exit before them was probably the most accessible, luckily not completely charred at this moment. Didn't mean it'd be like that for long, though. 

 

Dipper who had been frantically avoiding any charred pieces of wood or ash that was falling from the ceiling, was edged towards the kitchen along with Ford, Mabel and Stan. The front door was engulfed, as well as most of the gift shop. "Grunkle Stan! Wait up-" A huge plank of wood tumbled from the ceiling, signaled to Dipper they were running out of time. 

 

"I- I'm sorry Mr. Pines! Please don't be mad at me, sir! I uh, Wendy woke me up just a minute ago and, well, I told her I couldn't leave without you and the kids first. You're like family to me and I had to make sure you were all safe, cause like, I would freak out and junk if you weren't so---" Soos babbled as he moved out of the way from the door, giving them all a rather serious look, one that was unusual to see upon the lovable repair man's face.  

 

Though given the circumstances in which they faced, it was perfectly reasonable for him to have such and expression. "So, uh yeah, you guys better get outta here like lickety-split, cause I'm not moving until you're all out first. This is the code of Soos, so uhm, right! Go---" 

 

Before Soos had a chance to continue a very shrill gasp rattled out of Mabel, and she wriggled so harshly in Ford's grasp that she ended up falling to the floor, with a dull thud. She shot up like a bouncy ball, and her eyes were wide as the moon, her gaze scanned the kitchen frightfully. The tiny thirteen-year-old appeared to be on the verge of a panic attack. 

 

**"WHERE'S WADDLES?! WHERE'S MY BESTEST FRIEND IN THE WHOLE WORLD! WADDLES?!!? WHERE ARE YOU!"**

 

"Mabel, sweetheart---" Ford began, but before he could properly reassure her that he'd find the rotund lovable swine she adored, it was far too late. 

 

Mabel bolted off like a rocket out of the kitchen, towards the direction of the parlor and storage rooms, the only places still yet untouched by the raging inferno that had consumed most of the Shack 

 

**"MABEL, COME BACK!"**

 

 **"MABEL DUDE NO---"** Soos called out to her, but she had already vanished from sight. 

 

**"PUMPKIN, NO-"**

 

 **"MABEL! WAIT- No-!"** Dipper charged forwards chasing after Mabel for a second, before stopping at the door-frame. **"MABEL!"** His tears verged with the looming tears, his eyes locked open, staring at where he last saw his sister. His eyes were wide open, unblinking. **"Mabel get back here, please-!"** He turned his head hesitantly, looking at the rest of them, as the smoke got harsher. 

 

As the smoke settled into the room, Dipper began to cough harshly. His mouth tasted like ash, and his eyes started crying even more, if only because of the smoke. 

 

Another plank of wood tumbled loudly onto the floor as the group looked at the growing fire. 

 

"Ah, crap! Ford, I need t' get the others outta the shack, we aren' gonna last long in here-" Stan looked stressed and afraid, in the direction that Mabel took into the burning and crumbling shack. 

 

Ford cast his gaze all around, studying the horrific damage already done to the shack, the gears in his brain began to rapidly spin, working overtime. In a matter of seconds, he came to the conclusion he would have approximately three minutes to track down and locate Mabel, then perhaps two minutes left to spare to find Waddles, that is if Mabel hadn't already found him.

 

That gave him five minutes to search, and he prayed in a desperate silent plea to the higher powers in the Multiverse he'd be able to rescue his great niece. He would never forgive himself if anything happened to her on his watch. Smoke invaded his lungs and he coughed briefly, knowing that time and breathable air was wearing thin.  

 

"Get everyone outside, Stanley! I'll go after Mabel, I promise I'll find her and get her to safety." He went over to Dipper and then gently pushed him towards Stan, "Dipper, please follow Stanley and Soos outside. I'll get your sister and make certain nothing happens to her." 

 

"B-But what if you like get hurt Dr. Pines?!" Soos began to fret, ignoring his watering eyes, if anything happened to anyone in the Pines family he'd be devastated beyond all recognition.

 

"What if you get hurt and Mabel can't help you! You need to let---" Another plank plummeted to the floor, missing Soos's head just by a centimeter, but it caught his shoulder and he winced as he stumbled more towards the door. 

 

Stanley lunged as much as his old bones could, and helped Soos regain his balance, before turning back to his brother. "Ford..." He looked down at Dipper for a sec, before, turning back to Ford, smiling. "Ya better find her, ya nerd, and get t'hell out." He nudged Soos out, trusting Dipper to follow behind him. 

 

Dipper dashed out after Stan, but not before looking back at his great-uncle. He frowned slightly, before coughing, which convinced him to rush outside.

 

**If his great-uncle got hurt... he didn't know what he'd do. He'd better be safe. He'd better be, and Mabel too---**

 

Dipper fell into a massive coughing fit, before being practically dragged further away from the shack in a tense silence as they watched it shake and burn. The building was falling a bit apart by now. Everything was weakening for any sense of support. In the end, Dipper wasn't sure how much of it would be left. Not anymore. 

 

Wendy, who was maintaining the group of three on the sidelines, joined the others, carrying her axe, which she found leaning against some stacks of wood. The redhead watched the shack, as Stan explained the situation in the shack to Mabel’s fretting friends, who were wondering where she was. 

* * *

 

* * *

Ford had watched them flee the burning shack, a somber expression dawned upon his face, “I hope that Stanley will forgive me, if ensuring Mabel’s life means that I have to give my own.” He whispered, with no one around but the flames to hear his proclamation.

 

His protective Grunkle instincts immediately took hold of him like a vice. He craned his head out the door, and took an elongated gulp of the only fresh air he’d be breathing in, before he would be subjected to the impurities and toxic fumes of the thick smoke. He let the pure eventide oxygen linger in his lungs for an extended time.  

 

He charged off deep into the shack, his senses heightened from his journey through the Multiverse. He didn’t release the breath of fresh air until two minutes had marched on by.

 

There weren't any signs of Mabel, and he only had three minutes left to lead her and Waddles to safety, otherwise they’d all perish within the blaze. Damned if he was going to allow a fire of all things, to burn out the precious shooting star of the family. 

 

Her shimmering light should illuminate the world for many years to come, and her time to do so shouldn’t be prematurely severed in such an unjust and senseless manner. All because he had distracted her to the point of exhaustion, to where she hadn’t been anywhere near Waddles. If she had been with Waddles, she would have been liberated into the sweet arms of safety with everyone else.  

 

**Even if it cost him his life...**

 

He'd find her.

 

He’d save her.  

 

**Be damned whatever happened to him.**

 

Just let her make it out of this.  

 

Just let her live.  

 

**Please.**

* * *

 

* * *

Outside the shack, everyone else had been informed of what was currently going on inside. They were all waiting in breathless and anxious anticipation.  

 

Candy was sitting upon the ground underneath a tree, rocking herself back and forth, as her dilated pupils scanned the shack. Despite being terrified out of her little mind and body, she had to watch for Mabel and her great uncle.  

 

They had to be okay, they just had to. Candy wouldn’t know what to do with herself if her best friend perished in this fire, or if her great uncle did, because if that came to pass, she knew that Mabel would be rife with devastation. And Waddles as well, Candy didn't even want to imagine what would happen if Waddles died. The results would be nothing short of catastrophic, Mabel loved that pig with all her pure rainbow painted heart. 

 

Soos couldn’t hold still, he was gnawing on his nails, pacing back and forth, every nerve in his body was screaming for him to rush back inside to help Dr. Pines and Mabel. He knew that everyone wouldn’t be the same if they lost either of them. Then there was also Waddles, everyone would miss that might fine pig, even Mr. Pines would, though he probably wouldn’t ever admit that to anyone but Mabel herself.  

 

Pacifica was fidgeting with her earrings, not knowing what she should do with her hands. Two minutes had flown by in what seemed like the blink of an eye, and with every passing second, she became more anxious. She needed to do something, anything, but what? What could she possibly do that would be of any use to anyone in this situation? 

 

Grenda was hiding behind the tree Candy rocked beside. Her body was frozen, she just kept staring at the door. Waiting, as if they'll just come out.  

 

 **Why weren't they---? AAAGHHHH---!**  

 

Grenda snapped forcefully out of her stupor in a fit, kicking a rock, that ended up tumbling against some firewood.  _Mabel, you better get out here, right NOW-!_  

 

Wendy was gripping and scratching at the harsh, splintery hilt of her axe, watching the door. She turned her head abruptly, looking at Soos.

 

Her hand found his way to his shoulder to comfort the big lug. He seemed to be breaking apart. Her heart just happened to be more concealed, but she was worried for the squirt. Mabel definitely can be reckless, but that shouldn't cost her-  

 

 **Her life.**  

 

Dipper, on the other hand, was about to go crazy sitting on this gosh darn tree stump. His leg was shaking about fifty miles per hour, and he feels like he should be helping, he should be helping-.

 

But here he was. Sitting here, a snake coiled around his heart and his legs, oh, his legs weren't doing anything, weren't looking for his sister. Scratch that, they were jumpy and shaking and Dipper, was tired of that. 

 

He just wanted to do, something. Anything. 

  

**But nothing came.**

 

"Damn it, Poindexter." Stan was a looming behind Dipper, his head in his hand, as his fez slipped slightly upon his head. It balanced daintily on his head, threatening to fall. 

 

He stared cautiously at the shack, knowing that the Gravity Falls fire department was being remodeled right now and completely an unviable option, followed that the shack wasn't nearly close enough to town, or easily reached.  _Keep calm Stan. Sixer, he'll, he'll be out soon with the dorky kid. She's gonna be fine, he's gonna be fine._  

 

"They better be." His voice muttered quietly, grumbling at the shack. His eyes watered with slight tears for a moment, before he swiftly wiped them away. They'll come out soon. His eyes darted to Dipper, before returning to the shack. 

 

Soos was all but hyperventilating at this point, he didn’t even seem to react all too much to Wendy gently placing a hand upon the shoulder that hadn’t been snagged by a falling plank. All he did to let her know he appreciated the sentiment was cast his gaze over towards her and reached his hand up to pat the top of hers. 

 

Before he turned his frantic gaze back to the shack, biting the nails on his other hand. He had half the mind to rush back in there himself, but he knew that the Shack was far too unstable by now, and that even the gentlest of touches could send it crumbling into ruination.

 

 His hulking frame would only do more damage than good right now, if he went back in there, he might only cause problems for Dr. Pines and Mabel. “I hope they’re okay.” He muttered lowly, to no one in particular.  “Please let them be safe...”  

 

Ford, Mabel, and Waddles were so very important to everyone here, losing any of them would puncture a sizable hole into their hearts, holes that would never completely mend. 

 

Candy was in hysterics now, bawling her eyes out. Mabel was her and Grenda’s bestest friend in the whole wide world, if they lost her, they would be like a three-layer cake, except one layer would be burnt to a crisp.

 

They’d be like Christmas, but only with a tree, holly, and no presents. They would be like summer, with the rain and the thunder, but no sunshine to make a rainbow. She hid her face in her knees, trying to hope for the best, but her mind only whispering the worst.

 

**What if Mabel was dying? What if she was already dead?!**

Pacifica, with nothing else to do, decided to settle herself down next to Dipper. She reached out and placed a hand on his back in silent support.

 

She knew he must be the most afraid he’s ever been since Weirdmageddon, perhaps even more so. She watched the flames as they ate away, the Shack didn’t have much longer. Some parts of the wooden structure were already starting to collapse inward. Nothing would remain but ashes, if it continued on like this. 

* * *

 

* * *

 

**Unbeknownst to everyone outside the shack, Ford had finally come across his Great Niece and Waddles.**

 

“Mabel!” Ford’s heart skipped beats as a rush of relief flooded through him, like that of a cool misty spray from ocean water, drifting across the beach. He had found his great niece curled up in a corner of the parlor, clutching a terrified, nearly petrified, Waddles to her chest.  

 

“G-Grunkle F-Fo-” Mabel coughed harshly, grasping onto to Waddles as though he was her lifeline. “Grunkle Ford, W-Waddles is too s-scared to move an—and I hurt my ankle I c-can't move.” Her eyes were brimmed with tears, as she stared fearfully up into her Grunkle’s face. “C-Can you c-carry us?”  

 

“Don’t worry sweetheart, Grunkle Ford’s here, now.” Ford gathered Mabel into his arms and made a mad dash back towards the kitchen, only to come to a screeching halt when he realized that the blaze had now reached the backdoor. He mentally cursed his luck, wasn’t it just so lovely to see that somethings never changed.  

 

Bad luck seemed to plague Ford wherever he roamed, no matter if it be here or in the Multiverse. For the love of the Constellations above, why did his bad luck have to be striking up like a match now? 

 

“G-Grunkle Ford! W-We're t-r-trapped!” Mabel whimpered, hiding her face against Waddles’s cheek. “An-and it hu-hurts to b-breathe!” Her little lungs constricted, causing a bout of ragged coughs to ravage her throat.  

 

Ford’s gaze meticulously scanned the kitchen, until it stopped on the window. “Mabel sweetheart, listen to me. I’m going to have to set you down for just a moment, please keep a tight hold of Waddles so he won't run off again.”  

 

Mabel nodded with a soft sniffle as she was settled down on the floor, and she watched Ford grab a chair and then slam it several times against the glass window until it shattered into pieces. Then she felt herself being lifted up hastily into her Grunkle's arms once more. 

 

“Close your eyes Mabel, and count to ten. Don’t open them until you’re done counting.” Ford instructed, and smiled as Mabel obeyed what he asked of her. The window was too high up for him to leap through, he wouldn't be able to bound the height- not while holding Mabel in his arms. The chair he’d used was in splinters, and the kitchen table was covered in rubble, there wasn't anything he could use that he could leap off of, that would allow them both to go sailing out the window.  

 

Though he loathed it, he had no choice but to hurl his Niece through the window. He flinched when he heard her let out a shrill cry of utter surprise, and then he flinched once more at the sound of her crumbling against the ground. “Mabel are you alright?!” 

 

Mabel’s voice came back to him in a soft gasp, mixed with sputtering coughs. “Y-es! N-Now you come through too, okay?!” 

 

“Right of course, please take caution and move yourself out of the way Mabel, I wouldn’t want to crash into you.”  

 

“G-Got it!” 

 

There was silence, for a minute, before Mabel called back. “You-You’re c-clear for t-take off!” The young girl had taken a look around before calling out to Ford, she hadn’t been able to see where the others were. She assumed that they were somewhere far enough away from the flames, though.

 

Ford breathed in the fresh air from the window, and walked back a few paces, he bunched his muscles, preparing to bound forward and leap out the window when- 

 

**He felt the entire shack tremor violently---**

* * *

 

* * *

Outside the shack, there was a terrible hissing and whistling sound, and then a-  

 

 **BOOM**  -  

 

\--- echoed, as if a bomb had been set off, through the air. The storage area of the shack, and the museum area seemed to blow up, planks flying everywhere, and then that half of the shack collapsed in on itself.  

 

The basement was located right below those areas, so there was no doubt something in Ford’s lab had reacted explosively due to the concoction of flames and ash, causing the ruckus.  

 

And when it did that, debris plummeted down all over the shack---  

 

 **Sealing Ford inside the kitchen... as his only exit was now blocked off by rubble and debris.**  

 

The moment that half of the shack exploded and collapsed, the entirety of the group outside went deathly silent, their eyes being mistrusted under their minds. Each of their hearts missed a beat, but one person felt like he missed 20 beats in that moment.  

 

Everyone was frozen in place, their mouths glued shut, and the only sound that could be heard was the burning of the shack. Crackling and popping, they couldn't look away or say anything.  

 

The first to move was Dipper, who tripped as he got up off of the stump, rushing over, before slowing his pace. His eyes watered as his lip trembled.

 

"M-M..." His body shook violently, thinking about the two who were still in there, despite only being able to mutter, or eventually yell one of their names.  **"M-Mabel!?!"**   

 

Stanley Pines has only felt this scared a few times in his life. This had to be an awful nightmare. His heart relentlessly throbbed in pain, after his elongated 20 beat loss from earlier. His hands trembled, as his legs moved faster than he could realize. He was at Dipper's side in only a few moments, holding him firmly upon his shoulders to keep him from getting closer to the lethal flames.  

 

Stan's frantic gaze searched around the outside of the shack desperately for his twin and Dipper's twin. A child, or an old man. Anything- 

 

 **Anything at all.**   

 

Wendy's hand fell to her side, stiffening as she saw half of the shack blown apart. She had no idea what happened to make it fall that quickly, but she got about ten times more stressed.

 

She began making marks in the hilt with her bare fingernails. She stumbled out of her stupor and slowly approached the two Pines from behind, not wanting to make this worse, as she felt herself shake.  

 

Grenda was petrified in fear, like her whole body was restrained. She never, never felt this way before, it scared her. Something she couldn't just punch away to save her best friend. She just stared, and felt powerless and afraid for once. 

* * *

 

* * *

 Ford never imagined he’d be going out in flames, no, he’d always imagined he’d be drowning in the briny deep with the fish. Drowning, it had been Ford’s worse fear since childhood, however his love for the ocean and for sailing had overcome that urge to flee from the water.

 

Even though Ford feared drowning, his intellect always reminded him with a gentle whisper that he’d be able to work his way through the terror and save himself if he wasn’t unconscious or trapped, in which case he would have been utterly helpless and spirited away by the riptide, never to be seen again. 

 

To sink, down, down, down, to the bottom of the sea. A watery grave, frigid and dark, yet somehow tranquil and peaceful, and terrifying all at once.

 

Ford had studied thoroughly about the inner workings of drowning and form what he’d learned, drowning was horrendously painful, for one’s lungs filled up with blood, far faster than they did water.

 

However, after the initial surge of agony, a peaceful lull would settle upon the drowning victim and they’s slip away into an eternal slumber, without any more worries to plague their thoughts. 

 

There was no such respite when you were breathing the toxic fumes from smoke, especially ones that blossomed into a fiery red rose inferno, birthed forth from gasoline. It had taken him until he was trapped within, all alone, with only himself and his thoughts of his impending demise, to notice the peculiar scent in the air.  

 

Ford felt a dizziness settle into his brain, and caused any thoughts within to mirror static, like that of a TV screen not receiving a signal. He stumbled away from the blocked off window and tried to stumble through the kitchen and towards the parlor, perhaps he could find an escape route....  

 

**Or not...**

 

His tiring gaze landed on the flames blocking his path. He was surrounded by the inferno, in the heart of the sweltering storm. As he coughed and choked upon the fumes, his lungs ached like a balloon about to burst from too much air within it.

 

Or in his case, too much smoke and ash, he could hardly breathe. The fumes burned away all his focus and he couldn’t think, couldn’t get his gears moving. He had nothing to reach for, there were no bright ideas to call forth. The only place not swallowed up by the flames was the kitchen he stood in. And there wasn't any escape route.... 

 

 **He was going to die...**  

 

But at least Mabel was free, at least everyone else was alright. They’d live on and that’s what consoled Ford as he let himself sink to the floor by the back door, lying upon his stomach and chest, his cheek pressed against the sweltering wood. And as he drifted in and out of darkness, a thought struck him. 

 

In a moment of miraculous clarity, he reached into his pocket and pulled out his recording device. It was something he used to catalog all his deepest darkest tales from his time in the multiverse. He numbly pressed his thumb to erase his latest entry, and then pressed the record button.  

 

He shakily brought the recorder next to his mouth and with the last of his strength, he spoke as clearly as he was able to into the machine. He had just recorded what he believed to be his very last words into the machine. 

 

And he prayed that his family would be able to hear them, if they ever found the recorder, hopefully it would survive the fire. He didn’t wish for his family to be torn apart by his death. Especially his brother.... his poor little brother....

 

His poor Ley....  

 

Ford tucked the recorder back and turned his face downwards against the wood, and then his body began to shut down, succumbing the inferno’s might. His last thoughts being of the family he loved so dearly. And how he loathed to leave them in such a manner.

 

A voice from his past echoed through the stream of time, as he recalled the voice speaking, telling him that he'd live two lives, both of them incredibly short. He never would have fathomed that, just shy a year, after being brought home he'd be taken away from his family again. This time... permanently-  

 

A single tear holding all of his regret within it, knowing he could have had more time with his family, rolled down his face, before he was cast into oblivion. 

* * *

 

* * *

Outside, Candy let out a wail of sheer terror, she had jolted up, and cupped her hands, calling frantically for Mabel. Where was she!? Where was she! She had to be out! She had to be safe! She couldn’t be gone.... she couldn’t be---!  

 

Pacifica’s hands had flown up to her mouth, she trembled, speechless and frozen like a deer in headlights. This couldn’t be happening... this couldn’t be......  

 

 **“DR. PINES! MABEL!”** Soos cried out heart-brokenly into the air. He tore himself away from Wendy, and was about to dash forward when he spotted movement from near the shack, and his heart leaped in joy. **“MABEL!** ” He was the first to spot the shaken up thirteen-year-old as she rounded the shack, appearing in their sights. **“MABEL, DUDE! THERE YOU ARE!”**

Mabel had stumbled around the corner of the shack, Waddles clutched protectively within her arms. She staggered forward and crumpled onto her knees in the grass, hunched over, trembling like a leaf. 

 

She seemed to be in shock, her breaths shallow and quick. Her face covered in a mix of sweat and tears. If she had made it out, then Ford would surely be emerging soon from around the corner of the shack. Surely...  

 

 **Right?**  

 

Grenda just about launched herself from her spot, charging right into the weakened Mabel. She hugged her, swinging her back and forth. **"OH MY GOD, MABEL-!"** Swing, Swinging, Swung-

 

Eventually Grenda set her onto the grass, but didn't stop hugging her. 

 

The next to come up was Wendy, who still seemed on edge, although physically relieved when she saw Mabel. "Mabel, you're okay! W-Where's..." Wendy's voice died off, remembering the other twin. Stan's twin. Where was the old man, anyways?  

 

**Shouldn't he have left with her?**

 

The pattering of steps led Dipper right towards Mabel, where Grenda finally released her from her hold. "M-Mabel! M-Mabel... I-" His body shook for a sec, before lunging in on Mabel, hugging her tightly, as if she'd just turn to dust. Fading like an old photograph. "Y-You're... O-Okay..." Dipper's eyes finally went out like waterfalls, before his body stiffened as he realized something. "W-Where's Great-Uncle-" 

 

"F-Ford?! Where are ya, ya nerd?!" Stan's voice wavered, as he got up from where he was kneeling at Mabel's side, hugging her like the others, to frantically looking around, his eyes looking like a lost-puppy's would. Wide, frightened, and most of all, worried. 

 

"M-Mabel, Pumpkin... w-where's Ford?" 

 

Everyone was at her side, asking her a flurry of questions. Mabel couldn't think straight, she couldn't hardly even breathe at the moment, much less answer anyone's inquires.

 

The poor girl collapsed against Dipper and began to sob heavily into his shirt, her trembles increasing. Waddles slipped out of her arms to place his hooves on her, and then reached up to lick her face.

 

Mabel stiffened as Waddles licked her, "N-No! No!" She finally croaked out as she cowered away from the pig, which wasn't something she'd do under normal circumstances. 

 

She shook her head furiously, trying to chase away her light headedness and that's when she managed to choke out words that made everything go as silent as an old cartoon film reel.

 

"G-Grunkle F-Ford's s-st-still...he's still in.....in the...the...." Her breathing hitched with another sob. "in the sh-shack! W-We were t-trapped... and he had to throw me out the kitchen wi-window... but.... then there was that boom and... and....then the window was blocked off and....and he.... he's still in there. He's still in there! HE'S STILL IN THERE!" She was wailing at this point. 

 

 **"G-GRUNKLE FORD! GRUNKLE FORD!"**  

 

Her agonized cries for her nerdy Grunkle remained unanswered. She was a hysterical mess, she had cried so much her entire face was a bright rose red. She just wanted her Grunkle Ford. He couldn't be gone.

 

Not so soon. Not when he'd only been here for a year. He couldn't leave them again... but this time there wouldn't be any hope of coming back. And that's what was destroying Mabel from the inside out. This was all her fault.  

 

 **All of it...**  

 

The entire group's words were cut short, like someone cut the cords on everyone's vocals. They all were thrown into a situation they didn't believe, or want. Dipper stiffened at her words, and looked up panicked at Stan, who was facing another direction.

 

Quickly, Dipper turned back and held his sister close, despite being on the verge of breaking down himself.  He knew his sister needed him right now. So, he pushed away his feelings, and steeled his own thoughts. He was going to deny the very notion that his Great Uncle was gone, it would allow him to remain grounded, so that he could focus on Mabel. 

 

Great...- Great-Uncle Ford couldn't be gone. No, no, he's fine. He's probably just making it out... 

 

**Right now... Or? Or maybe, soon?**

 

Stan laughed gently to himself, somber and hollow, a mocking version of his old, hearty laughter. Just a shadow, before his anger and denial set in harshly like a thorn in his side. His face turned numb, as his whole body shook and he frowned.

 

He turned to the group, his mouth wavering, before a determined look came upon his face. "N-N... No." He turned to Wendy, whom backed up a bit preemptively, on edge by Stan's broken denial.  

 

Stan's mouth crawled into a scowl for a second, as adrenaline bubbled in his veins. He couldn't form a word as an ugly sound bubbled in his throat. Then with strenuous effort he let out a strangled sentence:

 

"Wendy, I... I... Need tha' axe." 

 

Wendy's eyes went wide, a bit intimidated as she lifted the axe upwards and towards him, his gruff hands carrying its weight steadily. Wendy was already shaken by the news, she didn't really want to make anything worse. "S-Stan, you're not going back in there, are you? The... You can see the shack's kind of... messed up."  

 

Stan turned his head sparing a short glance at her. "Need ta', this god dam' stupid fire, isn' taking away Ford that easily. I won' let it." He marched over to the shack, finding a patch of wall that wasn't up in flames yet.  

 

Stan suddenly let out a yell of outrage, as he slammed and struck the wall of the shack in intervals, no words coming out, just his yells. Eventually, he started making a hole in the shack, the wood easily chipping away at his furious blows. He didn't care where he was aiming for anymore. It didn't matter, he just needed to get in. 

 

**_T'hell m' gonna lose ya again, Poindexter. 'M gonna get you out of here. That stupid, multiverse crap didn' kill ya, and that damn Bill Cipher didn't either, why should this fuckin' fire-?_   **

 

The shack wall caved easily under the adrenaline enraged blows, finally there was a hole large enough for Stan to slip through. Only the kitchen remained intact, but it wouldn't remain for long.

 

Stan would have to locate his nerdy twin brother through the thick smoke and then get the hell out before the whole building went. It rumbled in a grim warning, the hole left in the wall already weakening the crumbling building even further.

 

However, at first glance, Ford wasn’t anywhere to be found, and time was ticking and ticking fast. As it stands, it would appear the shack was ready to collapse at any second. The only place Ford could be was logically by the back door. 

 

Mabel watched with teary eyes as Stan had broken through the wood, and she clung onto Dipper for dear life. She was whispering to herself sorrowfully. “It’s my fault...... I ran off to find Waddles. I’m so stupid... stupid....” She repeated over and over like a broken record. “Stupid.... reckless M-Mabel....”  

 

Soos, Candy, and Pacifica knelt down besides Dipper and Mabel and they waited....  

 

**Waited for what?**

 

Hopefully for Stan to pull Ford out of the shack before it collapsed entirely. 

 

Stan squeezed through the opening, the axe firmly in his hand. His finger felt the markings unintentionally carved by Wendy, as he moved over some fallen rubble and objects as the support to his left collapsed. Stan hacked across a few pieces of rubble that were blocking his path, destroying them into splintered pieces, he wouldn't let anything prevent him from finding his twin. 

 

"Hey nerd- ya might wanna lemme know where ya are?" Another strike, and what remained of a fallen cabinet was demolished. "I could ah, use some help findin' ya?" There was only silence that answered him, and it made his skin crawl with multiple chills. 

 

"F-Ford?" 

 

He wasn't entirely sure if it was the awful, dense smoke, or something else that caused his eyes to water, his posture lowered to avoid smoke. Eventually, he made it around a corner, only to see a body lying still on the floor.... 

 

 **No...**  

 

Ford was lying still on the floor. Not a body. It wasn't just a body. It was his twin, his brother and he had to be alive. Had to be.  _HAD TO BE-_  

 

 **"FORD-"**  

 

Stan temporarily dropped the axe, leaving it discarded on the floor, as he chaotically tore some fallen debris off of his twin, throwing it all around haphazardly.

 

He finally pried the last bit of rubble off of his twin, a large plank, and it fell with a noisy clatter beside him. Stan lifted Ford up off of the creaking floor boards, holding him underneath his arms, allowing him to lean up against him.

 

Stan took note that Ford must be unconscious, for his eyes were closed and he was lying limply against him.  

 

**Yes, just unconscious. That's all.**

 

"Geez Ford, didn' know this would be such a problem for someone who traveled the multiverse or somethin'." Stan let those words out under his breath as he chuckled slightly, but not in a humorous way.

 

His voice was still somber and empty, but in a way, this reassured him everything will be fine. "Y-Ya... ya always get into trouble..." Another heartless chuckle, as he lowered himself down slightly to grab Wendy's axe. He knew the redhead would kill him if he left it behind.

 

"D-Don't scare me like this again, okay? You're gonna-" A cough interrupted his train of words. "Be fine."  

 

If the world was ever once to give Stanley Pines any mercy at all, then let it not be for him. But for his brother. 

  
   
**Please let him be fine.**  

 

Stan managed to pull him out of the shack, as another beam broke off and hit the floor with an impressive sound. He made his way back to the others, but only managed a few steps towards them, before his legs gave out from under him, causing him to fall to his knees.

 

He positioned Ford to lie upon his lap. Stan's body heaved with heavy and labored breaths. The grass was pleasantly wet and cool with dew, compared to the hot, dry air inside of the ruined remains of the shack that still rumbled with the life of fire. 

 

Mabel was the first to say or do anything. 

 

“Y-You found him!” Mabel piped up, with shaky whimpers and breaths, she managed to stumble away from Dipper, and rush over on shaky knees towards her Grunkles. She let herself fall onto her knees besides her Grunkles, her body still trembling as though the air was frigid with the chill of Winter. 

 

She peered down at her Grunkle Ford’s face, his eyes were closed, and his jaw was slack, and his bangs lie messy and ruffled upon his sweaty face. “G-Grunkle Ford, are you o-okay?” She placed a hand on his shoulder, but he didn’t respond to the touch. 

 

“G-Grunkle Ford???” She said again, her voice soft and on the verge of breaking into uneven cries once again. “Gr-Grunkle Stan saved you again, like.... like always. So yo-you're gonna be just fine.... you're always fine when he saves you so---” Her desperate words faltered slightly as she gained no response. “Grunkle Ford?!” She placed her other hand against his shoulder, and shook him softly, trying to rouse him. “Come on, y-you gotta w-wake up now!” 

 

Ford didn’t wake to Mabel’s efforts, in fact he lies eerily still, as his head slumped limply, coming to a rest against Stan’s torso. Everything about him looked wrong, there were faint dark circles under his eyes, and his skin appeared to have lost some pigmentation. 

 

Now that they were out of the shack, his skin no longer appeared tan as it had in the glow of the flames. Underneath the luminescent pale silver light of the moon above, his skin was revealed to be a shade between tan and white. The coloration of his skin was best described as a creamy white, not quite tan but not quite white. It was a telltale indication of... 

 

His entire body was still... the kind of still that conjured thoughts of a silent winter's snowfall. Vacant and void of any disturbances that could disrupt the quietude. 

 

So very chillingly still... 

 

 **As was his chest.**  

 

There was no signature rise and fall of his chest. His chest that should be rising and falling to indicate inhalation and exhalation. Yet it wasn't... 

 

His chest was devoid of any motion, and there was an absence of shallow and raspy breaths... the kind one would make when being exposed to breathable air once again, after they’ve just been breathing in smoke and ash. It must have been all far too much for Ford's lungs to endure.

 

Despite being fitter than Stan, he wasn't as young as he used to be anymore. And that meant even if his lungs were strong, they could still collapse if put under enough strain. Any signs of vitality had been extinguished. It was like lighting a roaring fire, only for it to fizzle out within a torrential deluge of rain. 

 

Ford's ember of life had flickered out... 

 

That would mean---

 

He wasn’t breathing.  

He wasn’t breathing.  

He wasn’t breathing. 

 

**Stanford Pines wasn’t breathing!**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Annnddd that's where we're going to leave it off! Thank you so very much for tuning in once again, I'm certain you're just BURNING up with a HEATED desire to see the next chapter.
> 
> If you wish to see the next chapter SPARK to life, then please if you found yourself in the flaming sparks of excitement - by all means leave a kudos, bookmark and possibly say a few words about the chapter!
> 
> Remember folks, your feedback means the entire world to me and my rp partners, and it fuels our fire to create more!
> 
> We will absolutely be DELIGHTED to hear your thoughts! Of course you don't have to leave any words, just a kudos and a bookmark is fine! Honestly we just want you to have a FIERY BLAST reading our fanfic!
> 
> Au Revoir for now our little embers!
> 
>  
> 
> The Title for Chapter One Are Lyrics Taken From: Everything Burns By Ben Moody FT. Anastacia Newkirk
> 
>  
> 
> {{Oh look another rp turned fanfic in which the victim for ENDLESS SUFFERING is Ford X'D }}
> 
>  
> 
> DecipheringGravityFalls:
> 
> I swear, I LOVE Ford. I SWEAR. But being my favorite character isn't something that goes unpunished. If you have the unfortunate title of being one of my favorite characters... then you must suffer. MUAHAHAHA~


	2. If I Was Dying On My Knees You Would Be The One To Rescue Me; And If You Were Drowned At Sea I'd Give You My Lungs So You Could Breathe

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There's blood, blood, blood on her hands.  
> Still as a statue she stands.  
> She scrubs, scrubs, scrubs, but she can't wash it away.  
> No matter what she does, it seems to stay.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here we go, I present to you the 2nd chapter! Sorry that I decided to keep this one trapped for a bit! I wanted to build some tension! Anywho please feel free to bookmark, give kudos, or even comment your thoughts! Ivy and I are looking forward to seeing what you think of the story!
> 
> Title For This Chapter is Lyrics Taken From: Bother by Kodaline

 

* * *

 A frigidness unlike any other seeped into the very core depths of Stanley Pines’s soul.

 

His entire Universe began to capsize, as if the Universe was the Stan O’ War II and a hole had pierced itself into its hull. And that the icy waters of the Arctic were surging into it, threatening to drag it down to its watery tomb, where it would fall to ruins in the dark abyss.

 

Except it wasn’t the Stan O’ War II with a gaping hole inside of it. It was Stan’s heart and soul, and the hole grew ever wider as his eyes gazed down upon the still form of his twin His body stiffened as his hand froze up in fear while touching his brother's neck, coming up empty as he waited for a pulse in the silence and uneasy tension within the family.  

 

 

Stan tried to rouse him, shaking Ford’s body, before patting against his face, trying to get something out of his limp brother. "C-Come on Sixer, you're..." His movements became quicker, his body shuddering as he began to frantically attempt to awaken Ford.

 

 

"Ya’ve neva... Y-ya've neva given up this e-easily, hahaha..." His body was shuddering, struggling against the growing pit in his stomach and the coils threatening to pull apart his heart. "N-Neva... F-Ford?.. FORD!?!" 

 

 

Once again, Ford's body was limply shaken as Stan's frustration and fear crept on him, causing him to tremble and try harder to get a reaction out of Ford. Any reaction, anything... anything at all-! 

 

 

 **"STANFORD!"**  

 

 

Wendy, who was close to the two brothers, quickly stumbled to her feet. She had to help in some way, had to do something, she must do something-   

 

 

She nearly fell onto the harsh dirt as she rushed upwards. Her phone had never shaken so much during her rush to dial up anyone in her life, much less an easy number such as this.

 

 

"Hello, this is 9-1-1, what's your emergency?" Wendy took to pacing as she struggled to remain clear and calm to the operator, standing at a distance that no one around her could make out her words to the dispatcher. Not that they’d even attempt to, they were all stricken with tense fear.  

 

 

Mabel had tumbled back, before she crumpled into the soft grass. She was hardly able to hold up her own trembling frame, with her hands, as she hunched over on her knees. Not even registering the fact that Dipper was holding onto her.

 

 

She was sobbing harshly, her eyes burning with what seemed like a thousand tears. No, make that a billion...no a zillion. So many tears that she was certain she was about to cry the globe a fresh new ocean. It would be the world's eighth ocean and it would be bestowed the miserable title of: Mabel's Lament, A Heart Wrenching Tale Of Woe and Guilt.  

 

 

It was a working title, but well that was the gist of it anyways. 

 

 

Her heart clenched tightly with an ache she had never felt before, it was horrible and she just wanted it to stop. She just wanted the pain to release her, this was all her fault. This was all her fault.

 

 

“G-Grunkle F-Ford! T-Thi-This is all m-my f-fault! I’m sorry Grunkle Ford! I’m sorry!” She wailed as loudly as her scratchy lungs would allow, pouring out apology after apology that her Grunkle Ford might never hear. She didn’t even notice that Candy, Grenda and Pacifica were at her side, trying to soothe her with hushed words and pats. She was numb to them all...  

 

 

But despite how horrendous she felt, she couldn’t even fathom how her brother was fairing. He must be devastated... and it was all Mabel’s fault. And she couldn’t even bring her vocals to bring forth an apology to him. Dipper must hate her, and she didn’t blame him. 

 

 

**She hated her too.**

 

Ford was as still as a corpse lying in the morgue, his body jostled around limply as Stan attempted to wake him. Yet he would not wake, for there was no life left within him, he was an empty husk.

 

 

There was no more beat to his heart, no more oxygen within his lungs that were stuffed with ash and smoke, and no fluttering pulse. The creamy white hue of his skin was ebbing, as it morphed into a snowier white coloration. The dark circles underneath his lower eyelids become more prominent. 

 

 

There wasn’t any doubt about it now, he was indeed as the old saying went, pushing up the daisies. Whatever had gone wrong within the cogs, gears and mechanisms of his life’s eternal clock, who could say for certain? 

 

 

Alas, it didn’t matter much in the long run, all that mattered was something had gone horrifically wrong. For Ford to have succumbed so effortlessly and so swiftly to death’s siren song, it indicated that there must be something more alarming underneath the surface. 

 

 

The Gospel truth is that, Stanley was right on the money, Ford wasn’t one to give in so easily while he stared death down. Ford had escaped the Grim Reaper countless times while they’d been out sailing, some instances, in which Stan honestly did believe him a goner. Ford always proved him wrong every time, much to his utter relief, and they’d have a hearty laugh about it later on.  

 

 

Yet as it were now...  

 

 

Ford didn’t appear to be capable of a daring escape from the Grim’s scythe, he was just... gone. Gone in a way that Stan might not be able to bring him back from. This time Stanley Pines might not be able to save his brother from himself once again. When had the Universe ever favored Stanley Pines? There seemed naught an instant in which it would ever offer him respite.  

 

 

No, fate was a cruel Mistress, and she had always walked along Stan’s shadow. Spiriting away any solace or joy from the lonesome vagabond. Now it seemed Mistress Fate desired to take Ford from him... again. It wasn't like when Ford had been lost through the portal. There was always a chance to get him back then but now.... 

 

 

This time Stanford might be taken away from him... 

 

 

 **Forevermore...**  

 

 

Soos watched concernedly as Wendy frantically spoke into her cell, though he was unable to discern what she was saying. Though he could clearly imagine what she was telling to the dispatchers. The lovable repairman however didn’t keep his focus on Wendy, instead he settled down next to a nearly hysterical Stan, and a weeping Dipper and Mabel.

 

 

"M-Mr. Pines, I think... I think maybe... he looks like he just stopped breathing not t-that long-ago and....well I don’t know much about this kinda stuff, but I know about chest compressions and cpr. I think we can still get him back, but we can’t panic.” There was a bitter irony in his words, seeing as he seemed on the verge of panic himself. Yet he was trying to be of help, bless his huge heart of gold. 

 

 

The dispatcher at this point had replied to Wendy, assuring her that there was already an ambulance on the way because of a call made earlier by Fiddleford Mcgucket, who had seen the fire signals in the direction of the Shack from his mansion window, just only two minutes ago.

 

 

And true enough in the distance, the most beautiful sound they’d ever heard, rang out. Sirens blaring from an ambulance, just a few blocks away. It would be there soon, and all that could be done was pray it wasn’t too late for Ford, as well as try to guide his lost wandering spirit back home to them, in the meantime 

 

 

Dipper teared up as he clutched his sister as the trembled uncontrollably. The only part of him that had any tension was his arms, holding Mabel from the storm in her own heart. His eyes let the tears down freely as he kept staring ahead. He couldn't believe it honestly. After all of the pain from the literal apocalypse, this, this is what got his great-uncle? 

 

 

**_Not a demonic being, just a stupid, stupid fire._   **

 

He just couldn't believe it, and part of him thought, or at least hoped it was a joke. Sure, he'd be mad, but he'd be much more relieved he was alright. But even he knew Ford's jokes were bad, and never to the point of causing his family grief.

 

 

Dipper didn't know what to feel. His fingers felt numb, or was it his mind. Mabel was going on about something, but he couldn't hear, it was just ringing in his ears. His eyes trailed down to the grass below, his glistening stare nearly devoid of any emotion but denial, tears continuing to stream down the young boy's cheeks. 

 

 

Stan, on the other hand, was much more stubborn in his downfall. His arms shook Ford again, stubbornly hoping this would cue Ford to realize this was an  **awful**  joke. At the response of silence, the response of dread, Stan's eyes started letting out trickles of waterworks, and he did his damnedest to hold back the sobs flooding his throat.  A few tears landed on Ford, but even that didn't awaken his brother. "T-This isn' funny. D-Do..." Stan’s uneven breaths hitched for a moment. 

 

 

"D-Do ya think this's funny?! C-Cause I-I don't, come... come on!" Stanley Pines was nothing, if not stubborn. Even as his body warned him of collapsing, he continued to try to rouse him, hoping for the slimmest chance he would just open his eyes.

 

 

"F-Ford! G-Get up, ya nerd! Get... up!" One more shake was put through Ford, before his body was rested against Stan, like a sleeping child, but even he knew that wasn't this situation. Stanley's throat started hiccuping, as he fought through tears and gruff short and strangled cries, to speak.  

 

 

"Stanford! W-We... We were s-supposed... suppos-... supposed t-to do this together! R-Remember...?" Stan's words got even more incoherent, as he struggled to make his vocals obey his will, his eyes unable to look away from his fallen twin. Stan couldn't even force them to blink or close, to spare himself the bleak sight before him.

 

 

 **"Wherever... W-Wherever w-we go... we go... t-together. R-R... Right?"**  

 

 

 **_Right?_ **  

 

 

Stanley thought back, his mind spread across time and space. He could almost feel like he was back in the burning shack, hearing Mabel cry out for Waddles, hearing Ford tell him to leave. Stan should've done something, anything, he should have stopped Ford from going it alone, or Stan could've chased after Mabel instead, without Ford. That or he'd have axed down the wall faster, or even saved his brother in another way. He could've done something...  

 

 

 **HE COULD'VE SAVED-**   

 

 

Soos's words echoed in his mind as it broke the fragile dense lock, causing his head to shoot up and look at Soos as he said those words. That's right, he could try, at least. He could try. He had to try. Albeit he didn't exactly know what to do, he wasn't trained for it, he had to do it, or he could lose him. Stan positioned his brother on the dirt, moving his shaking arms and trying to relax his shuddering breaths. Lifting his brother's head to clear his air way, he began to do chest compressions.  

 

**Thump...**

**Thump...**

**Thump...**

 

 

Stan attempted to give his brother rescue breaths, his own breaths not cooperating as they shook with the force of winds. And again...  

 

 

**Thump...**

**Thump...**

**Thump...**

 

 

Stanley Pines was definitely a stubborn man. That, he couldn't agree with more.  

 

 

Wendy, after finishing the call, stayed on the line, answering any questions she could as she watched them all from afar, smiling slightly only when she began to hear the sirens. She absolutely hoped for Stan's sake they came fast enough. But even she didn't know if they had any miracles left. 

 

 

Mabel’s teary gaze flickered to the stars in the eventide sky, and she counted them all above her, never missing a single one. She was a Shooting Star, the guiding light to her family, the one that everyone would risk life and limb for without a moment’s hesitation.

 

 

If she was only to make one last wish upon a star in her entire life and it come true, then this would be the last wish she’d ever make. She wasn’t going to accept what she could no longer change, she was going to change what she could no longer accept. And the scene before her was not one she wished to be a part of her reality. She learned all too well that reality could be bitter, harsh and cold. Yet it could also be warm, lovely and spilling over to the brim with joy. 

 

 

Reality is what one made it to be, not something decided by fate, if you wanted something you squared up and you took it. That’s what she’d learned, if you wanted things to get better then you and only you alone could drive yourself towards that goal. 

 

 

No one could do it for you, no one could make it so. Mabel with all her burning brightness, all her love, all her soul and all her heart fought against her own inner demons. If Soos said there was a chance for Ford, then Mabel would have to take that chance and breathe life into it, breathe life into her Grunkle that she didn’t want to live without.  

 

 

Despite the hatred she harbored within her for herself, she gently pulled away from Dipper and everyone else. For the first time tonight she walked with firmness, and she settled down onto her knees before her two Grunkles. She reached out, and grasped her tiny hands against one of Ford’s hands, and rested her forehead against the top of it.  

 

 

“Please come home.”

 

 

Was the hushed whisper that left her vocals, as a single tear splattered upon Ford’s pale hand. Above them all a star sailed across the vast expanse of space, and flickered brightly, at Mabel’s selfless wish. 

* * *

 

* * *

 

A tranquil ocean that didn't exist in the realm of the living, vast and forever reaching, cradled a singular orb of light within its gentle waves. The light flowed through the crystalline water. Drifting aimlessly and without rhyme or reason. The light flickered and dimmed, as it began to make its decent down towards the abysmal darkness below. However, just before it could reach the point of departure between the cerulean waves and the onyx chasm, something was reeling it back up. 

 

 

A hook penetrated the essence of the light and began to haul it towards the surface. The reeling force wasn’t at all violent, in fact it was actually rather soothing in nature. The way the light was ascending was calming, and so it relaxed, it allowed itself to be brought back up to the surface. Once the light broke the surface of the waves it began to ascend into the air, it flickered and sparked, becoming brighter and brighter. Warmer and warmer.  

 

 

The icy chills that it had once been subjected to receded unable to handle the warmth emitting from the burning orb. The orb floated and floated, higher and higher, ascending at a rapid rate with no signs of wavering. Then it was swallowed up into the darkness of a black void, yet this void felt welcoming, like one would feel when they stepped through the door and were greeted by those whom loved them.  

 

 

Greeted by....  

 

 

**Those that loved them.**

 

 

Family.... yes, that’s right. Family... the orb would be greeted by its family.  

 

 

No not it... the orb wasn’t an it. It wasn’t an object. It was a he. He was a mortal being, living on planet Earth. The orb was the very spirit of Stanford Pines, floating between life and death, there were two options presented before him. Succumb to his fate and be free of anymore misery and strife, or rage against the dying of his own life and return back to those that loved him.  If he chose death, he would be free of the anguish that came with living, yet he’d also be spirited away from his family.

 

 

The spirit weighed his choices and found that despite everything, even if returning to the realm of the living was going to be as excruciating as Hell, he wished to go back. It wasn’t as if he hadn’t walked the terra firma of Hell plenty times over by now. He could do it again, no not could, he would do it again. His family still needed him. There was wind... wind that shouldn’t be possible in the vastness of space where the spirit currently resides. The wind blew and blew, without wavering, and then there was a pressure surrounding his spirit.

 

 

It pushed and then retracted, pushed and then retracted, rinse and repeat, rinse and repeat. Cracks began to form in the darkness and a large gaping hole of brightness illuminated the orb. And a star came rushing through the hole, aimed right at his spirit. The star wrapped itself around his spirit and banished whatever frigidness that still lingered within his soul’s core.  

 

 

 _"Please come home.”_  A soft voice pleaded.  

 

 

Ford knew that voice... 

 

 

 _Mabel?_  

* * *

 

 

* * *

Ford’s body had yet to receive the memo, for it remained lifeless. His skin was as white as freshly fallen snow, and it was cool to the touch. Not quite cold, yet not quite warm either. It did not react in the slightest to Stan’s efforts. Ford was adrift away from Stan, somewhere he couldn’t hope to reach, it was as though they’d been caught up in a storm. As if lightning had split the Stan O’ War II into splintered pieces. It was like the two twins were clinging to their own separate pieces of driftwood, being pulled away mercilessly from each other by the stormy and intense tumbling waves. 

 

 

However, hopelessness was no match for the power of Mabel. Mabel reminded the family constantly that the power of Mabel was the mightiest force in the entire Multiverse and it wouldn't be trifled with. There wasn’t anything that could deny her will, there was no reasoning with it. For reasons no one could ever begin to fathom, Mabel was unlike anything else. In fact, Ford might even dare go as far to say that she might even be an anomaly herself, with how her aura seemed to radiate with such a magical flare. 

 

 

The power of Mabel didn’t give a **dandy gumdrop** about things such as the resolute laws of death itself. 

 

 

Mabel most certainly IS the guiding light of the Pines family, and she had proved it in this very moment, for what came next was the miracle they’d all been holding out for. Ford’s body and spirit became one once more, his ember of life sparked within his chest.

 

 

The ember was his heart, and its flickers were its faint beats. Ford’s senses returned to him in a whirlwind of awareness, the very first of which, was his sense of touch. He could feel firm hands being pressed down onto his chest, stimulating the beating of his frail heart, and then crisp and clear oxygen was deposited in his expanding and deflating lungs. And as soon as there was a brief pause in both stimulations- 

 

 

There was a noise so damn beautiful, that it made the sounds of the ambulance siren pale in comparison to it, this sound was...  

 

 

The frail and raspy strained coughs that escaped Ford’s parted jaw. His entire frame caught in the throes of light tremors. And then the second-best thing after that was Ford’s chocolate eyes fluttering open, although not fully, but just enough to take in his surroundings. Even though they were jaded there was a faint glistening light of life that still remained within them. Ford found himself staring up into the anguished, yet determined face of his twin.  

 

 

“L-Ley?”  Was all he managed to murmur, his vocals too exhausted to form anything else than his affectionate nickname for his little brother. 

 

 

"GRUNKLE FORD?!" Mabel's voice, was the first to ring into the night air after Ford's, her voice came forth in a gushed squeak of unbridled joy, as she pulled her face away from Ford's hand as it gently curled around her hands. "GRUNKLE FORD!" The tiny child was back to trembling again, as tears of pure elation streamed down her face. "DIPPER, EVERYONE LOOK! GRUNKLE FORD IS ALIVE!" She let out merry laughs between her crying, as she cast her shimmering and delighted gaze back towards everyone. 

 

 

Soos blinked rapidly and nearly teetered backwards, almost fainting at the revelation. "Oh, thank goodness." He whispered underneath his breath. A giddy joy bubbling within him, he was so beside himself with delight. Dr. Pines was breathing again, though he might not be out of the woods just yet, it meant that there was still some life left within him that was willing to fight back against the call of death. That meant there was a chance that he'd would pull through this, just as he usually had so many times before.  

 

 

Soos didn't feel like he'd ever been this relieved, save for when Weirdmageddon came to an end. He honestly hadn't wanted to face the prospect of Mr. Pines, the person he looked up to as a father figure, losing his twin he'd spent so long on bringing home, he didn't know if he'd be able to handle it if Dr. Pines died, and caused Mr. Pines's soul to shatter. Hopefully now that Dr. Pines was breathing and still here with him, that he'd be alright. Please for the love of all things good, have him come out of this okay. 

 

 

Candy and Pacifica fidgeted in place, gazing upon in pure amazement. After a moment of staring the two girls turned and hugged each other tightly. A sense of relief washing over them, both of them overjoyed for the Pines family. They couldn't stop smiling, smiling so wide that their cheeks began to ache with dull pain. Though they couldn't care less. 

 

 

Grenda took no expense in rushing forward, squeezing the two hugging girls as well, although unexpected from the top. She was laughing, and most likely squeezing/choking the two of them in her glee. But it was unknown if they cared or not, as everyone just felt a tidal wave of relief wash everyone probably across the entire country. 

 

 

Wendy stumbled, rushing in her speed to be near where the ambulance would come, ready to wave it over when it showed up. Turning her head at the commotion caused a small smiled to appear on her face, seeing that Ford was responding. That was some nasty luck that twin had to deal with. She turned back, with renewed determination and happiness. She could start to see the lights of the ambulance appear through the trees. 

 

 

Stan's entire body went rigid, his eyes trailing down to his brother, who had just said something. Said SOMETHING. His body shuddered again as he couldn't hide the waterworks on his face. His eyes were as wide as dinner plates, looking at Ford in stunned silence. Stanford was breathing. He... 

 

 

 **Was okay!**  

 

 

At least for now, Stan noted briefly before his mind was filled with shock and amazement looking at his brother. He wasn't dead, not yet! The coils around his heart lightened, his gut no longer sinking as he moved with an incredible speed, lifting the weight of his brother back into him. "S-Stanford! Don't... T-That wasn' f-funny, Ford! D-Don't... Don'..." Stanley cradled his brother close to him, his body shuddering and sputtering as he heard distant sirens, knowing that his brother was going to be okay... 

 

 

"Y-Ya stupid jerk- You had me cryin' and... a-and..." Stanley, desperately clinging onto his brother. He was so... so mad. But it was well hidden beneath his sheer relief, which resisted his attempt to lecture his brother. "I-If ya do... do that again, m'gonna sock y-you..." His gruff voice shaking, and betraying his tough attitude for his sobs were openly and impossibly crying out. His fingers tingled as his tears kept flowing, no matter how many times he tried to wipe them away. Soon, he stopped bothering. He was just... so, so glad. Stan didn't think he's ever been this relieved in a long, long time. He slowly let a breath out that he didn't even realize he was holding. 

 

 

Dipper fumbled backwards at the sudden commotion around him, barely hearing his great-uncle. Dipper didn't know what Mabel did, but her words were the last to speak out before his great-uncle woke up. He didn't really care now, regardless. Dipper's legs were unsteady as he rushed to get up, his legs failing to work, as he stumbled up, nearly falling face-first into the harsh, charred ground. He knelt, or rather fell, beside Grunkle Ford, his smile widening with every moment. "G-Grunkle Ford! Y-You're okay!" 

 

**Oh, thank goodness.**

 

 

Dipper couldn't help his small laughter growing in relief. He felt no resentment as he hugged his great-uncle, continuing to laugh. Listening to Stan's words, he was relieved that the others were just as happy. After getting up slightly from the hug, he laughed gently, turning to Mabel, before he punched her arm playfully. He didn't think that he could be any more relieved at his moment, and that probably went for his sister as well. At least basing it on the way she was shaking in relief. 

 

 

The first auditory reverberations Ford heard were those of Stan, trying to deflect the fact he’d been rife with anguish and distress over the whole ordeal. He would have laughed if it hadn’t been for the ache in his lungs and esophagus. The best he could manage was a feeble grin as he rested against Stan, his breathing was shallow and uneven, though it was exponentially an improvement over not breathing at all. His arms felt like dead weight as he shakily rose them up so he could return Stan’s embrace.  

 

 

“L-Love you too brother.” Ford muttered with a soft and shaky sigh, though he felt positively dreadful from the top of his cranium down to the tips of his toes, he couldn’t help the wave of contentment that rushed over him. His dulled gaze flickered over to Mabel and Dipper and he regarded them with sheer mirth.

 

 

“Ah… ki-kids… you’re sa-safe… good…good.” More coughs pushed up and out of him, he shivered as he huddled against his brother, seeking out the warmth he provided. He was still rather cold, though that was only to be expected given he’d just been pulled from the icy waters of death after all. 

 

 

A low grunt was elicited from Mabel as Dipper delivered a soft punch to her arm. She couldn’t help the merry giggles that escaped her. She wrapped an arm around Dipper and then used her free arm to place her hand against Ford’s back and patted it gently, hoping that this would help him breathe easier. Help his lungs rid themselves of whatever harmful particles that still lingered within them.

 

 

Alas even though she was pleased as a child on Christmas morning, there were still dark whispering inside of her. This had all been her fault after all, their Grunkle Ford could have and possibly might still die. She inhaled sharply and shook her head, chasing away the negative voices, and she grinned the widest grin she’d ever grinned in her entire life. Only positive thoughts would be allowed from here on out. 

 

 

The sirens of the ambulance blared ever closer, the white medical vehicle was rolling down the road towards the shack, it was about damn time. 

 

 

Stan's voice caught in his throat as he heard Ford's reply, seemingly silenced. Stan didn't expect to hear those words again. Last time he heard them was when they were kids. Stan was however, not displeased, although flustered. It's nice hearing those words again.

 

 

The shaking from his brother unsettled him, as he slowly moved to shrug off his old coat, which he had been in due to cold. His tank top was roughed up after this night, as he put the coat on Ford's body, which was seized with tremors. If anything, the coat almost reminded him of sometime 30 years ago, but he couldn't think of what. 

 

 

"D-Don' try to talk too much." Stan's voice firmly broke out, attempting to put away his wavering fear behind him, looking towards the ambulance, which Wendy wasn't afraid of jumping around and waving crazily at. He was pretty sure the twins would be mimicking her, but he knew they just wanted to be near them. He didn't blame them. "B-But Stanford, ya... ya need to stay awake, okay?" Honestly, he didn't know if he **NEEDED** to, per say. He just wanted to make sure he was still alive, and Ford falling into unconscious wouldn't be a good sign in his book. Not until they grab him. 

 

 

Stanley kept looking between Stanford and the approaching ambulance, he couldn't help but feel a bit more relieved. "Y-Ya shouldn' have ran back in for her by yourself." Stanley's grumbles made their way to Stanford's ears, barely however. Quiet enough Mabel couldn't hear.

 

"I coulda helped ya or something." Stan's voice fell partially silent, before the conman looked over and waved to the ambulance that swerved to a stop beside them. Gravity Falls paramedics came out, holding a stretcher and rushing out towards them.  

 

 

Stanley held Stanford close for a bit, before reluctantly relinquishing his hold, as the medical personnel took his twin and placed him upon the stretcher they'd pulled out of the back of the ambulance. They assessed Ford and the situation, all the while Stanley just watched on in silent unease, as the medical team prepared Ford, for what he assumed to be a trip to the hospital.

 

 

Dipper also watched just as intently. He was still smiling, but his smile dropped a bit watching them look over Ford and preparing him. He knew Mabel wasn't looking forward to having a bad message, and probably was a bit nervous of the ambulance anyways.

 

 

But this turn of events was for the best, Dipper knew that Ford was better off now that the paramedics had arrived. They kept asking Grunkle Stan questions repeatedly, causing him to visually get uncomfortable and it was obvious he wanted to hurry up and go with Ford into the ambulance.  

 

 

Geez, even Wendy could see his discomfort. It was far from hidden. 

 

 

Staying awake was something Ford had much practice in doing while in the Multiverse; there had been countless instances in which he could recall being on the verge of death, yet still somehow managing to endure it and the majority of the time without medical assistance.

 

 

His stubbornness was almost as formidable as Stan’s own. They were twins through and through, it was as if they shared the same soul even. Which is why wherever they go, they go together. Ford wasn’t about to go anywhere without his twin, death was someplace Stan would not be able to follow him.  

 

 

Therefore, death was not an option, he’d just have to hold out for just a little longer, though as he lay upon the stretcher, he felt his eyelids wavering against his will. He did his best to shake his head, attempting to fend off his fatigue, he had to stay awake… stay aware.

 

 

He couldn’t let himself slip back into the void, he wasn’t certain if he’d wake again if he surrendered to it. He focused his weary eyes upon his family, trying to assure them by way of a smile, but even moving the muscles that allowed him to do so was an arduous undertaking.  

 

 

As he watched the other medical personnel bombard his family members with inquiries about what happened and if anyone else was injured, he wasn’t aware of the bag valve mask being placed upon him, and as soon as his sluggish brain registered the medical device, he felt his lungs lighten in relief.

 

 

The ventilation of his smoke dusted lungs allowed him to breathe easier. He greedily gulped down large quantities of the air, filling his starved lungs with the oxygen that he'd been denied for probably around three to five minutes. It was a miracle that Ford’s brilliant brain hadn’t suffered any impairments as a result of the oxygen deprivation. 

 

 

His eyelids drooped and became heavy, he clenched his hands into fists, trying to control his intellect and keep himself from plunging back into darkness. He had no clue that his struggle to stay awake was causing his body to tremor vigorously. 

 

 

“Is my Grunkle gonna be okay?”  

 

 

He heard Mabel’s voice from somewhere past one the nurses standing before him, addressing them nervously. He watched the nurse turn towards his frightened niece and reassure her that they’d do all that they could for him.

 

 

And although they couldn’t make any promises, it was lucky they’d arrived when they had, stating that Ford had a higher rate of survival now that they were stabilizing him. This seemed to do little to quell Mabel’s worries, though she nodded all the same. 

 

 

After they'd assured the young child, and had gotten Ford ready for the ride to the hospital, the rolled the stretcher up the ambulance ramp and secured Ford in the stretcher, and the made certain the stretcher was firmly locked into place upon the floor of the vehicle. 

 

 

Stanley got up stiffly as his bones screamed from the sharp rise. He trailed after the medics towards the ambulance, asking briefly to get on the ambulance, getting a calm, compliant reply. After taking look at the kids, and Stan's words, the paramedics allowed Stan, Dipper and Mabel to join in the ambulance, by Ford, who to them barely seemed awake. 

 

 

Wendy approached the back, realizing there wasn't any more room, turned to Stanley. "We'll get the kids home, and umm, see you later I guess dude." Wendy frowned for a second, before waving and rushing over to Soos, Candy, Grenda and Pacifica.

 

 

The three kids seemed shocked for a moment as they turned towards the ambulance, before being herded away by Soos. As they left, Candy and Grenda promised Mabel they’d watch after Waddles for her, Mabel had responded with a curt nod, and a slightly peculiar grimace, that Candy and Grenda weren't able to dwell on as Soos ushered them to his vehicle.

 

 

The ambulance sputtered awake, the engine beginning to run, the two nurses began to close the door, as the other figures waved goodbye, soon to disappear into the distance. Trees stormed pass them, as the blaring sirens accompanied them on their trip into town and towards the Gravity Falls General Hospital. 

 

 

Dipper was looking out the back windows temporarily, watching just how fast the trees kept moving. He nearly got dizzy before deciding to touch his sister's shoulder to reassure her, then turning to Ford. His voice trapped in his vocal cords, as he frowned at his great-uncle. The sirens were pretty much deafening at this point. This was the first, and hopefully last time Dipper would ever have to ride in the back of an ambulance. 

 

 

Stan was just staring at his brother, steadying himself against the harsh bumps and swerves in the road. His hand timidly reached for Ford's, squeezing with enough pressure to reassure him, as he hoped that he was still awake. Honestly, Stan had no idea if he was still awake. The rising and falling of his chest reassured him of one thing though. That he was alive.

 

 

"Stanford... S-Stay awake, ya jerk. Y-Ya aren't... falling asleep on me, are ya?" Stan's free hand twitched as he turned to look at his brother's face. His skin was rough and callused, almost like a rock. His skin's paleness started to already set off a fluttering worry deep inside of Stan, not to mention it only worsened with how cold Ford was as well. 

 

 

"Can't... Can't go to sleep yet, nerd." 

 

 

That last line collapsed in his throat, barely making it pass the sirens, much less to Ford. 

 

 

 _I nearly lost ya_ ,  _stop giving me heart attacks, or I'll end up digging an early grave. I love y_ _a_ _so freaking much_ ,  _for being this much of a nerd who gets in a lot of trouble, please don't let your luck run out tonight. Y_ a _have to make it through this -_  

 

 

Stanley hated this feeling. The worst part is besides the whole Ford situation, he didn't know how the fire even happened.  _Y_ _a_ _have to!_

 

 

Ford’s eyes were barely open, not closed quite yet, though one would be hard pressed to disconcert this fact if they didn’t observe closely. His breathing was still faint and feeble, yet it wasn’t as strained as before.

 

 

The medical personnel had done an astonishing job in their work, getting him as stable as he could be in the given circumstances, and not to mention how effortlessly and swiftly they had done so. He peered towards his family from underneath his eyelashes, studying them to keep his mind sharp, he felt Stan gently squeeze his cold hand, he felt the warmth of his brother’s hand, against his, seeping into his hand.  

 

 

The warmth grounded him and kept him cognizant, there was little room for argument here. Though he was worn and exhausted, he was aware it wouldn’t be ideal for him to relinquish himself to the temptation of slumber.

 

 

At least, not until he was in the Hospital where they had more adequate medical equipment to treat him with. He reached deep within himself for whatever reserves of strength he had left to spare, and curled his hand around Stan’s. An enervated and breathy chuckle rumbled through his vocals, he had almost missed Stan's questioning words. 

 

 

“Y-You know I-I don’t f-fall as-asleep so e-easily, Stan.” His voice was a hushed, frail and broken whisper, it sounded wrong erroneous, weak and listless. It was unbecoming of him, Ford was supposed to be Stan's hardy, tenacious, and durable older twin brother. Ford was tough in many ways, yet he excelled in being his toughest when faced with the bleakest of situations. Last summer was a testimony to just how sturdy he was.

 

 

When Ford had finally opened up to Stan about his and Dipper’s whereabouts the day Weirdmageddon occurred, he’d come to learn that Dipper had saved Ford’s life from an alien spacecraft and that it had jostled Ford around in its pod like a ragdoll, yet Ford was able to walk away with just minor lacerations, bruises, a limp and some aching muscles.

 

 

Afterwards he was subjected to Bill’s torment, though he never was able to tell Stan exactly what occurred, all he allowed Stan to know is that Bill was ruthless and merciless. If Stan tried to press him on what Bill had done to him, Ford would fall into silence and wouldn’t speak again until the subject was changed. Then there were all those other harrowing tales he’d imparted onto Stan about his time in the Multiverse. 

 

 

Once again, he left out quite a few details in those tales, though it was all because he wished to spare Stan anymore guilt. If Stan were to ever find out just how much adversity and hardship Ford had endured, then there wasn’t any uncertainty that Stan would just slip back into the pit of guilt, one that Ford had almost liberated him from after a year of dedication. Ford wouldn’t allow Stan to slip back into the pit of his own guilt in regards to knocking him into the portal.   

  

 

He wouldn’t burden Stan with the knowledge that thirty years within the Multiverse had marred his entire body with a sea of scars. He’d been so far successful in hiding his deepest darkest secret from Stan, even when they’d swapped clothing for Stan to out-con Bill, Ford made for certain that Stan didn’t sneak so much as a glance at him until they had finished putting on each other’s clothes.  

  

 

At least he could admit to one truth, sleep did not take him so easily, there would be many nights he’d forgo sleep in favor of researching something fascinating. On the other hand, however, the second most reason as to why he’d opt out of sleeping was due to his horrific night terrors, of which he also didn’t inform Stan about. Ford’s sleep schedule was virtually nonexistent, and he only seemed to sleep when his body decided to switch off like a light-bulb burning out. 

 

 

Mabel reached out and placed her hand delicately on Ford’s shoulder, timid in her movements while she did so, she gave off the impression of fearing that just one light touch would shatter her Grunkle Ford into pieces. "Don’t... worry G-Grunkle Ford, yo-you're really strong l-like...su-super-duper strong!” The poor thirteen-year-old was obviously frantic with worry, but she was putting on a beaming grin and she sounded sincere in her encouragement. For one so small, Mabel was also so very strong, just like both of her Grunkles. 

 

 

“I know y-you'll be okay. I believe in you.” Bless Mabel, honestly and truly, if there would be any word that would describe their great niece and Dipper's sister, it would be the word: **Angel.**

 

 

How she managed to bounce back from such sorrows so rapidly, like a rubber band snapping in the blink of an eye, might always remain one of life’s unsolved mysteries. Whatever had the Pines Family done that was so deserving of having such a gentle soul as Mabel to be a part of their family? The answer would perhaps forevermore be shrouded in an enigma, but they all knew one thing. 

 

 

**They were all lucky to have her.**

 

 

"I... hmm... I'm not sayin' you’re right." Stan smiled slightly, despite his frown during his attempt to recall. Honestly, it's been so long, that Stan couldn't recall any other memories of their childhood that was about sleeping.

 

 

All he remembered was Ford as a teenager staying up all night, and the several sleepless nights Ford experienced on the Stan O' War II. "Ya, uh... holding up alright?" Stan felt his chest tighten, as his hand gripped his brother's. His eyes didn't leave his brother as he tapped his foot nervously.   

  

 

 _I shouldn' have let him go inside by himself, I shouldn' have, he coulda died, he still...he still c-could..._  

 

 

"Y-Ya freaked me out, ya had me so scared, ya nerd. You're awful, haha-" Stan's voice wavered again, as his hand shook in his brother's. "Ya can't do that to me, ya know that. Or I'll... I'll die of a heart attack, just ya watch!" Stan's bravado appeared once more, before fading just as fast as it returned. A sudden sharp corner caused the inhabitants of the ambulance stumble, and for Stan's case, nearly fall right over. He steadied himself against the wall of the vehicle, to keep himself from falling flat onto his back. 

 

 

Dipper grabbed onto Mabel's sweater as the turn happened. As soon as the vehicle was settled, he inched pass Mabel towards his great-uncle. He smiled as best as he was able, waving his hand in front of Ford’s face to make sure he was still attentive, in case he was phased out from the sudden jostling of the ambulance.

 

 

"S-So... Grunkle Ford? Are you alright? W-We were also... umm... a bit nervous, haha-" Dipper frowned hardly able to keep his words straight, before another bump in the road caused Dipper to fly right into his sister, tumbling them both over, but luckily not onto the ground.  

 

 

The sirens seemed to be even louder, although, Dipper couldn't tell if they had actually changed in volume, or if his own gnawing panic was getting to him. He really hopes they get there soon. 

 

 

Ford’s comprehension of the current events unfolding around him became rather mangled together. His collective consciousness was beginning to ebb and falter. He had to strain himself to register what his family was saying to him. He mumbled a low apology to Stan for causing him such turmoil and unease.

 

 

There was a tense pause as he went silent for almost a full minute before he replied to their inquiries, his words uneven and his voice rather jaded in nature, “Ca-Careful there kids, and I feel numb mo-mostly…not sure if that’s po-positive or ne-negative.”

 

 

He shivered even though there was a medical blanket over him, Stan’s jacket, and not to mention was also wearing a sweater and sweatpants. The only conclusion to be gained by this, was that his core temperature had plummeted sharply into the lows. It was obvious he wasn’t just numb he must also be… 

 

 

“Cold as well…and…” He trailed off, his eyelids starting to wane. It didn’t need to be verbalized for them to understand. 

 

 

He was tired. 

 

 

None of what he listed, be it spoken or otherwise implied- was in anyway favorable. He was aware he was being rather blunt about his condition, though he wasn't going to sugar coat it.

 

 

Lying wasn't an acceptable route to take, for one it wouldn't be fair to the children, and secondly Stan would be able see right through the façade. Ford learned the hard way that no one could convincingly lie to his twin. It didn't matter how sly one thought themselves, Stan was able to detect the dishonesty.  

 

 

Though, that didn’t exclude the loophole of concealing the level of just how significant his suffering actually was. Technically it wasn’t lying if he just so happened to conveniently leave out such vital information. The very last thing he desired was to cause more distress to his already shaken up family. Also, it wasn’t as though leaving out this information would be detrimental right…? 

 

 

Right… it wasn’t as if this would all turn around and blow up in his face in the next few minutes, or rather given Ford’s unfortunate relationship with lady luck, it probably would. But would it hurt to just let them feel some solace, no matter how briefly fleeting it was? They’d already been though such a traumatic ordeal, certainly they could be spared for a while yet before everything fell apart again... 

 

 

 **Surely the Universe could give them that…**  

 

 

Mabel had grunted in disdain as Dipper smacked into her. Fortunately, she was able to steady herself, but as she listened to Ford the warmth of her heart sank down towards the pit of her stomach. As though her heart was the sun, and her stomach the frigid Arctic Ocean.

 

 

She placed her hand softly against Ford’s cheek, and gave it a few pats to bring him back into awareness. “Hey don’t go to sleepy town yet, you big dork.” Somehow, she maintained a cheery demeanor as she spoke, it was quite admirable actually. 

 

 

Thankfully it seemed to work as Ford’s eyelids fluttered rapidly, and his eyes opened up a little more, “Mabel sw-sweetheart… you and Dipper should probably settle do-down. I do-don’t wish to see you harmed.” A few dry coughs tumbled pass his parted lips, but he managed to return a crooked grin at her. 

 

 

“But Grunkle Ford I-“ Mabel began, not wishing to sit down, she wanted to be as close as she could to her Grunkle Ford. The fear of losing him all over again bubbled up inside of her, as her grin was nearly wiped from her face. 

 

 

“Mabel…please?” Ford attempted, his voice although firm, had a hint of something else within it. Was it sorrow? Or was it a plea? Or was it something entirely different? It was hard to tell, but whatever it was it visibly caused Mabel distress.

 

 

He felt his heart give off a few fluttering  palpitations, as his niece’s beaming grin began to waver. “It’s al-alright sw-sweetheart, just…please sit down. H-here you can ho-hold my other h-hand, if that will assure you.” He reached out to Mabel, and slipped his free hand into her outstretched hands. 

 

 

Mabel tightly clutched Ford’s hand with both of hers. She begrudgingly settled down into a sit on the small built in bench. She didn’t seem to be as satisfied with the compromise as Ford hoped she’d be, but at least she didn’t put up a fight about it. Mabel could feel her Grunkle's unsteady trembling hand against her own hands. It caused chills to slither up her spine.

 

 

“Okay I… I believe you, Grunkle Ford.” 

 

 

 Even though she said that, deep down to everyone in the ambulance- 

 

**It was clear that she didn’t believe it at all.**

 

 

The ambulance ride seemed to be taking an eternity. Time itself had appeared as it if had slowed to a sluggish crawl. However, there's a perfectly reasonable explanation as to why it was taking rather long. The Hospital was all the way on the other side of town from the Mystery Shack. If Ford had to estimate the remaining time it would take for them to arrive, he assumed it would be within five minutes minimum to around ten minutes at the most. 

 

 

Ford would need to call upon his survival instincts to endure this last stretch before them. Five minutes or ten minutes... it didn't matter to him. He'd hold out... he had to hold out. He had to... 

 

 

For the sake of his family that he loved more than life itself... 

 

 

Dipper settled himself beside Mabel, his hand also touching his great-uncle's. Dipper’s expression was a strange mixture of relief and worry, however he looked as though he were about to fall into several panic attacks. As if his brain couldn't decide if he should either remain calm or panic. "I-I'm glad you're alive." Dipper muttered out, before glancing at his sister with a somber expression. Blind to everyone else, Mabel could tell that Dipper looked like he was going to cry.   

 

 

He was always a bit of a crybaby, but the expression that he displayed made Mabel feel really torn. Dipper's feet kept tapping the floor of the ambulance, as he looked down, hoping desperately that somehow this ride could go a bit faster. Great-uncle Ford did not look alright. Not one bit, but he didn't think that he needed tell Grunkle Stan or Mabel that, he was under the impression that they were already aware. 

 

 

Seemingly out of nowhere in particular, a small voice in the back of Dipper’s mind reminded him that he hadn’t even taken into account about how Mabel was doing. "You're alright too, right Mabel?" Dipper felt extremely worse all of a sudden, he had completely forgotten to ask if she was alright!

 

 

How stupid was he to forget this-? She had also been in the fire, although for a bit less time. Dipper hated himself for not even bothering to ask until now. He didn't need to be such an idiot about his own twin! "I-I'm... um... sorry." His voice measurably fell as he frowned even worse, looking away momentarily.  

 

 

Stan had frowned deeply at Ford's apology, mentally smacking himself from his choice of words. He really, really wasn't the smarter twin, he knew that, but he didn't have to go and say something about having a heart attack because Ford had frightened the daylights out of him. Every muscle within Stan had tensed, he knew what Ford meant about being cold and, well, tired. Stanley readjusted the blanket and the jacket atop Ford, before he opened his mouth cautiously.  

 

 

"I know you’re tired, Sixer. It's not that much longer, I'm sure-" Stan's voice pattered off pretty quickly from there. Ford could definitely feel his hand getting gripped tighter as Stan's face began to waver like a disturbed pool of water. Ford couldn't tell what Stan was thinking, but Ford didn't like it, not for one moment. Stan's expression was faltering into guilt and self-doubt, and at the worst moment too! He had to be strong, had to be the durable twin.

 

 

Especially now! But, oh no, of course being the rotten twin he was, he wasn't even able to hold up, isn't able to smile and be something for Ford to be grounded by. No, instead Stan had been on the verge of falling apart the moment Ford ran in after Mabel, and ever since then. Sure, a few times tears had fallen from his cheeks tonight, but each time he had been able to regain control. Yet now when Ford needed him most, and needed something to hold on to, Stan wasn’t able to pull himself together. 

 

 

**_'Pathetic.'_   **

 

 

Stan didn't have to imagine hard to remember his father or his disapproving voice, as if from the afterlife, mocking him and clearly, clearly disappointed in him. Filbrick's voice echoed as clear as the sky about what a failure he was being right now. 

 

 

**_'Can't even keep yourself together, not even for your own brother.'_   **

 

 

And, it was true. Stan knew it was true. He wasn't the one on the medical bed, he wasn’t the one who charged in after his great-niece and nearly died tonight. No, Stan was the selfish brother who’d broken Ford’s dreams, stuck to the past, shoved Ford into the portal, got in a fight over the words, "thank you", and finally even after all of that, he had stood outside while Ford had taken the risk, that may just yet still cost him his life, by going after Mabel.   

 

 

 **What a useless, useless person Stan was.**  

 

 

Mabel’s gaze averted from Ford to Dipper, she blinked a few times before she let out a strained and low laugh. Her eyes watered with unshed tears, and she grinned as best as she was able to manage, “Silly Dipper, I’m oki doki loki. Grunkle Ford made sure of that! I mean I did twist my ankle a little, but Grunkle Ford saved me.” She trailed off and her gaze flickered back towards Ford.  

 

 

“Now it’s our turn to make sure that Grunkle Ford will be oki doki loki too.” The brunette shivered as she took notice of how cold Ford’s hand was between hers. She furrowed her brows and frowned, “Your hand feels like a block of ice, Grunkle Ford. Don’t worry I can make it all warm again!”

 

 

She began rubbing her hands against Ford’s hand, like one would do to their own hands to warm them up after a day of being outside, playing around in the snow. “Grunkle Stan you should rub Grunkle Ford’s other hand, and make it toasty like a marshmallow! Dipper…” She glanced over at her bother, taking a moment to think about her next words, “Dipdop… you’re on talk to Grunkle Ford and keep him awake duty.” 

 

 

Ford couldn’t help but let out a frail chuckle at Mabel’s words and actions, she was taking charge and keeping herself together. He was thankful that at least one of his family members weren’t falling apart just yet. Speaking of falling apart, his gaze locked with Stan’s, the faint light still in Ford’s eyes ebbed ever so slightly but remained all the same. His mouth pulled into a taut frown, with remarkable strength that he didn’t know he still had, he gave Stan’s hand a firm squeeze of reassurance.  

 

 

“Stanley Romanoff Pines…” He stated his voice coming out stable and hardy, it was surprising that he was able to keep his voice this steady. He sounded like he should, tenacious and unshakable. “Look at me Stan…” He gazed deeply into his twin’s eyes and spoke with conviction, “Whatever you’re thinking... it’s not true… I don’t know what exactly is on your mind, but I have a feeling that you’re doubting yourself again s-so…just li-listen…” 

 

 

He took a deep breath to reaffirm his voice, “You’re not worthless Stan, you’re the man who saved our entire Universe, and I’m lucky and proud to have you as my brother. What happened tonight wasn’t your fault so don’t you da-dare think for a moment it is. You… you’re... strong…St-Stan…and you’re creative and smarter than you g-give yourself credit for." Ford was forced to pause as a sharp pain bloomed in his lungs, his breathing hitched momentarily as he recovered from the unexpected sensation. 

 

 

"Y-You...you su-survived t-ten years on your own...y-you didn't even finish Highschool, y-yet you survived on your own. You en-endured w-whatever c-came your way, you ne-never q-quit ever...no matter what happened. T-Then you op-opened the Mystery Shack...you worked day and night to make it a success, all while t-trying to b-bring me home Stan. Y-You managed to f-fool e-everyone s-so you could br-bring me home, t-that takes cunning an-and ski-skill. Y-You s-saved me S-Stan...y-you b-brought me ho-home. Yo-You taught y-yourself h-how to operate the po-portal all o-on your own. Th-That p-portal was c-created by Mcgucket and m-myself.... the b-blueprints were c-complex an-and intricate." He paused again, catching his breath, cold beads of sweat trickled down his snow-white face. 

 

 

"It w-would take someone wi-with a sharp and w-witty mind to even fi-figure out h-half of the calculations in o-order to run it. B-But you d-did it, Stan...d-do you know how im-impressive that is S-Stan? And then y-you out conned the most no-notorious conman across all di-dimensions. Yo-You eliminated B-Bill Cipher, the most substantial t-threat in the e-entire Multiverse. Y-You've pr-proven th-that this Universe w-was wrong ab-about you.... s-so many times over. Y-You're not a screw up, you're not useless, you're a hero Stan, not only t-to the Universe, b-but to Dipper and M-Mabel... and me.” Yet again another brief pause, more shallow and quick breaths leaving Ford. 

 

 

“Y-You s-saved me from my-myself Stanley, I-I can only ho-hope to one d-day be half a-as great as you. Yo-You pr-proved the entire Universe wrong, and you also proved P-Pa wrong too. H-He s-should h-have been pr-proud to h-have you as a so-son. Y-You were t-the one that ac-achieved the ex-extravagant things that he a-always t-thought I would. B-But all I m-managed to d-do was p-put the U-Universe in p-peril. I-I don't know ho-how P-Pa was s-so b-blind... you..you made m-more o-of a fo-fortune and a li-life for yourself than he c-could have ever d-dreamed of. And h-he best b-be rolling in that d-damn grave of his for e-ever d-doubting you and your worth." 

 

 

Ford's breathing devolved into a labored mix of pants and harsh rasps, it was at that moment that he realized forcing himself to verbalize in such an unrestrained manner hadn't been his brightest idea, though what was done was done.

 

 

He'd deal with the consequences of the newfound excruciating torment that was now coursing through him, like a river of ice and fire. He was unconcerned with his own suffering, be damned with it, he wasn't going to allow Stan to slip away into the clutches of his inner demons again. Ford wouldn't ever let it happen again, didn't matter that he was slowly dying, he'd never let it happen again. 

 

 

Dipper had been silent through the entire thing. Part of him felt like he and his sister shouldn't be hearing this, but there wasn't anywhere they could go in an ambulance to give them privacy. He kept looking down, frowning slightly, trying to give them space. It's their moment, it should be left to them to think of and speak over.  

 

 

Stan too, was silent. The only sound that broke the bubble of silence was the sirens, as Ford's voice rumbled throughout the ambulance. Stan’s face went from somber to shocked in moments, realizing his brother's words.

 

 

Sure, he'd heard this before, but he wasn't expecting it now of all things. Stan had many moments in his life, not just when he got Ford back, where he broke down and cried, similar to that of a panic attack. Most of the time it was self-deprecating, and usually caused by fear, stress, or otherwise and he swore he felt a break down looming over him as he listened to Ford. His face turned somber again, still silent as he heard his brother out.   

 

 

He didn't like how his brother's voice struggled against the limits of his own strength. God, if he could only take his place, Ford, he didn't deserve this, he tried to save Mabel and this is what he got? His hand clenched his brother's, tightly, to let him know he heard him. "Ford... I..." Stanley's voice failed him, barely giving him room to talk. It slipped out like water, being carried in a careless child's hands.   

 

 

 _Thank ya so much, I don't know what to say, ya shouldn't be here, ya don't deserve this, why can't I take your place, why did this have to-?_  

 

 

Stan’s thoughts couldn't be anymore jumbled at this moment.  

 

 

 _M’glad M’your brother, too._  

 

 

Telling Ford, he was glad to be his brother too, was just another thing he couldn't manage to get his vocals to say. As if he was scared this would jinx something, like something would die with those words, like Ford--- 

 

 

 **No definitely not his brother.**  

 

 

Stan didn't want that, and lady luck, although throughout his whole life been nothing but stupid, causing bad situations to happen to him, but kind to bestow him just enough dumb luck to fight back, seems to have turned her back on him tonight. He couldn't just... risk it.  What if he never did say it though? But what if he did, and it jinxed Ford and...   

 

 

Stanley just kept arguing with the words in his mind, before a sudden noise infiltrated his head.  

 

 

"H-Huh?..."   

 

 

Stan had now just noticed the heart rate monitor, which was near him, skyrocket in speed, as it picked up Ford's rising heart rate. It also didn't take long for him to register Ford’s now erratic and raspy breaths. This sent a rock plummeting into Stan’s stomach, causing his fear to churn wildly. Stanley stiffened staring at the monitor. It was freaking him out.   _Oh f-fuck, I did this, I...d-damn it! I g-got him r-riled up! C-C'mon Stan, th-think do something, this is your bro, ya gotta do something for him, c'mon---_  

 

 

And once again, Mabel came to the rescue, seeming to be the only Pines that hadn’t lost her marbles yet.  

 

 

“G-Grunkle Ford!” Mabel squeaked in alarm, as her hands tightened around his. She turned herself around to look towards the EMTs, “H-Hey! M-Medical p-person gal o-or guy! P-Please help!” She begged desperately, watching as the female nurse hopped up and rushed over to some of their medical supplies, shuffling through the cabinets as if searching for something. 

 

 

The female nurse after finding what she needed, came over with a shot and a fresh ventilator.  “Excuse me sir.” The Nurse passed by Stan, as she carefully but quickly swapped out Ford’s old ventilator in favor of the newer one. Then, she held the shot in one hand and used her other hand to locate a vein on Ford’s arm, the needle pricked into his skin and injected some sort of medicinal liquid into his bloodstream.

 

 

“There, that shot should help steady his heart rate, and the new ventilator will help regulate his breathing. Try to keep him from becoming too riled up like that again, it’s not favorable when he’s in such critical condition. Don’t hesitate to inform me or my partner if any more problems arise.” With that she took the old ventilator and shot, discarded them in a bin, and settled down on her chair. “We’ll arrive shortly, only three more minutes to go.” 

 

 

Ford’s struggling didn’t cease right away, it took him some time to find respite from the episode. The heart monitor spiked frightfully a few more times before it fell back down. The readings didn’t return to a normal beat, however, instead it was a rather slow and delayed beat, though perhaps it was a far cry better than being erratic and out of control. His frantic breaths broke off into low raspy ones, so low that you’d only hear them if the surrounding area was completely silent, however with the sirens still humming, it was impossible to hear them. 

 

 

The only indication Ford was still with them was the lethargic beats that beeped in the monitor, the stalled rising and falling of his chest, and his eyes which were closed, yet scrunched up.

 

 

A whimper of pain he was unable to keep from rising, left him, it was obvious to them all that he was in more agony than he’d initially let on and his outpouring of emotions only amplified it. His entire awareness was frayed and he couldn’t grasp what was happening, he was becoming detached from reality, he didn’t have a foothold---  

 

 

He was going to.... oh moses.  

 

 

He was going to fade back into the darkness! 

 

 

He didn’t want to, oh God he didn’t want to he--- 

 

 

The fearful cries from both his niece and nephew are what brought him back to awareness, he could feel their hands tighten on his. He turned his head towards them opening his eyes ever so slightly, trying to give them a reassuring smile, but failing to do so.  

 

 

He was just so tired... 

 

 

“D-Dipper....M-Mabel...c-come h-here...” His voice was so faint now, it was almost drowned out by the sirens.  

 

 

Mabel immediately got up and came over to his side, peering fretfully down into his face. “G-Grunkle Ford, p-please d-don't do that again. A-Also we-we're close to the hospital, p-please stay awake.” She could barely force her vocals to give life to her words, and when they sounded off into the air it was mixed into a combination of whimpers and soft sniffles. 

 

 

**Okay, now Dipper was sure he was going to have another panic attack-**

 

 

The thirteen-year-old was shaking hard enough, that if you could hear his bones rattle, it'd be as loud as a drummer. It was like he was being shook all around, his arms closely tucked into his chest as he let go of Ford's hand to get closer to him. His eyes were watering, but at this point, tears just couldn't help but flow. He had no intention of trying to stop them anyways. There was something much more important for him to be doing now. 

 

 

"Grunkle... Grunkle Ford, please stay awake! D-Don't fall asleep!" Dipper’s voice piped up, almost imitating a laughable squeak if it wasn't such a dire situation. It felt like the air was weighed down, like gravity itself was trying to crush them all under the fear and terror that the ambulance now unsettlingly held.

 

 

Dipper knew himself that he hated it. He was sure the others did too. His hands clenched together, almost painfully as his nails dug into his own skin, before loosening and returning his hands back to his great-uncle's.   

 

 

"C-Come on, umm, tell us something, I don't know! W-We need to keep you awake, umm..." Dipper's voice, which was low, kept uttering for something, anything to ask him, something to keep Ford's mind sharp and thinking. Silence soon pervaded as Dipper shrunk in on himself, starting to sniffle, his mind numb as he just couldn't think of what to say. What could he even say?! What was there to SAY?! 

 

 

Stan watched all this unfold with an expression that didn’t suit him, but he knew all damn well that it had taken shape on his face. It wasn't as somber now, but it was still scrunched up with frantic worry. He felt as if he should say something, but it felt like his own fear was suffocating him. He wanted what he had to say to be something good, something alright, something that would put them all at ease. But his own mind failed him, leaving him with no words to speak.   

 

 

Besides, it was probably best he didn’t, he had been the trigger that caused that entire situation to occur. Also, Ford looked like he wanted to talk to the kids now anyways.  

 

 

Best to let him speak as he wishes.   

 

 

Hell, Stan yearned to say something so much, but Ford and the kids were having their own calmer heart to heart, maybe? He couldn't tell, but nonetheless he didn't want to interrupt it.  

 

 

Ford's drifting off had nearly sent him over the rails, before the kids had snapped him back out of it.  _They're good kids._  Stanley fondly mused with a faint broken smile, for a moment, before it faded and he looked away, despair invading his thoughts without his consent.  

 

 

 _That whole issue... that was all my fault. I coulda avoided that whole thing if I wasn't such a screw up, that coulda killed him, and it was all ‘cause of me._  

 

 

Stan stifled a sob that was threatening to crawl up his throat, his gaze now peering outside the ambulance window as if an answer to their plight was out there, somewhere. All he saw were lights and buildings, and all he heard were the sirens.  

 

 

**He was so... so damn tired of all of this drama.**

 

 

He just got his brother back last summer and now this? It was frustrating and unfair. His brother didn't deserve any of this, but look who's in the medical bed? Him. It shouldn't have been Ford. It should have been Stan, and it wasn't any shock that he'd just made it all the more worse. Stan would give anything to be in that medical bed, anything at all. 

 

 

The heavy and harrowing silence was broken with Mabel's shaking voice. “M-Maybe tell us another tale from your time in the Mu-Multiverse, Grunkle Ford?” Mabel had suggested, when Dipper wasn’t able to come up with anything.

 

 

Thank goodness for Mabel, she seemed to be the most composed out of any of the Pines in the ambulance. How did she even manage it? They may never find out, because Mabel herself wasn’t even certain how she was keeping herself this well put together. “L-Like w-what about that time you a-ate some of those weird galaxy space cookies you found t-that are i-illegal, and then you woke up in a place you di-didn't know?” 

 

 

Ford stared almost blankly at them, his mind trying to grasp what they were both saying. He’d hardly heard them, there was a dull ringing in his ears and a fiery pain that burned across his chest, as if a wildfire had ignited within it. His frazzled mental state was unable to pinpoint the location in which the fiery pain was originating from. Was it his heart... or his lungs? The answer eluded him, swimming like a fish in a dark ocean just out of reach of a fisherman’s line.   

 

 

When he spoke, it wasn’t about the space cookies or about his time in the Multiverse, instead it was about Dipper and Mabel. 

 

 

“K-Kids... I.... I lo-love you v-very mu-much. D-Dipper I’m..s-so pr-proud of you m-my boy, I k-know o-one day y-you'll a- accomplish s-something s-spectacular and....M-Mabel y-you're c-creative and....have a h-heart made of glit-glittering g-gold. Y-You're go-going to change the world o-one day s-sweetheart. I-I'm certain that b-both of you w-will d-do wo-wonderful and a-amazing things....” He trailed off, letting his ventilator refill his lungs for a few moments. His words were so full of emotion, but most of it sounded sentimental and resigned...?  

 

 

It sounded as though he was, without actually saying it outright, his goodbyes. Surely Stanford Pines wouldn’t be resigning to death's embrace?  Not when they were this close to the Hospital -  

 

 

 **Surely, he couldn't be!?**  

 

 

Dipper would usually love, and even be ecstatic if he ever heard such praising words from his great uncle. Like his soul would scream in joy or something like that. But he couldn't, not for even a moment, feel anything remotely positive for the words Ford was speaking.  

 

 

"Gru-Grunkle F-Ford, please don't talk like that, it's really, really-" Dipper's small voice was interrupted by someone with a much, much louder voice, who happened to have heard those grim, resigned words. 

 

 

Stan's eyelids rose, almost like a flip of a switch in his head. His head turned sharply, probably, hurting his neck in the process. Whiplash was definitely going to kick him while he's down later, but he didn't give a damn. His whole body shifted towards his family after that. 

 

 

 **"Ford, what the actual hell-!"**  

 

 

Stanley's voice was marked with venom, dripping down his tone. Oh, he was burning with fury, and gripped in fierce unrelenting denial.

 

 

"Ya can't just give up-! After all o’ this, after everything we've done together, and even on ya own, you'll just give up?!?" Stan's free hand clenched tightly, his expression contorted furiously in his fit of frustration.

 

 

"Excuse me, but I won't be lettin’ ya go down that road if I have any say- hell, I would drag ya right back to the livin', just to slap ya for being such an idiot to think that was an... w-was even an o-option, Poindexter!” Stan's voice started to lose its venom as he looked down at Ford, his body wrecked with tremors. 

 

 

"Y-Ya can't just leave us, and hell, if ya still have some sorta grudge against me, there's still the kids! The one's ya were dronin' on about just seconds ago! They matter to ya, and ya matter to us! So, don't just... Don't do that." He looked away, his breathing harsh, his glare fixated on the floor, while his fury fizzled and faded.

 

 

Leaving him feeling empty and worn, he couldn’t recall the last time he’d felt this desolate, though he had his suspicions that it must have been after he had pushed Ford into the portal, along with the long damn thirty year wait he had to endure before he got him back home. 

 

 

"I might've been a shitty brother and all, and I barely know about what happened to ya when we were apart for forty years, but I know for sure a thing about dying." His voice wavers between desperate and frustrated, letting his gaze wander back to Ford’s hazy gaze. "It's a god damn awful thing to do." His hand subconsciously reached up and rested over his left eye. 

 

 

 "You're my twin, and hell if I let ya die that easily. Not that sadly, not that depressingly, not ever-!" A shaky breath interrupted him, as he shook his head firmly. "Ya was the only reason I kept going for those thirty years ya was gone, save for the kids during that last damn stretch, so t'hell I will let ya go out before me, Stanford." His voice tapers off, leaving the ambulance in silence for a brief moment before he whispered lowly, "That, is a promise." Stan wondered if he'd ever shown that much of his anger around Ford before. It wasn't aimed at Ford of course, it was aimed at that stupid resignation that Ford was giving into.  

 

 

 **T’hell he’d let the Universe take away his brother away from him a third time.**  

 

 

Mabel listened in silent panic, as Stan’s voice boomed out loudly, choice words spilling from him, as if someone had turned on a spigot and accidentally forgot to shut it off. Her heart was pounding what seemed to be a million miles a second, and she was shaking her head.

 

 

Just as Dipper and Stan were both unsettled by Ford's resignation, so too was she. After her Grunkle Stan had finished his whirlwind of a rant, Mabel’s voice interjected, “No, no, no, no! G-Grunkle Ford, p-please! W-We're almost there! Please!” She collapsed forward, draping her head across Ford’s chest, her heart ached as she felt his weak heart beat thrumming against her forehead. "Don't talk like that!" 

 

 

She turned her face in the direction of her Grunkle’s, and soft sobs trembled through her, “Please don’t go... please! I- a-already u-used m-my last wish for you! I can’t wish again! It won’t work!” Her tiny hands curled around the maroon fabric of Ford’s sweater. “W-We l-love you G-Grunkle Ford, and f-family s-stays t-together li-like f-fun t-time ha-happy stickers! S-So you c-can't go! Y-You're s-stuck with us!” 

 

 

Ford remained quiet throughout Stan’s speech, he was aware that the fury wasn’t direct at his person, not exactly. He understood that Stan was only this agitated at the resignation that seemed to have carried in his words. It’s not as if Ford was being accepting of his fate, he actually loathed it, loathed that he was dying.

 

 

But facts were facts, there was nothing to do but to surrender. He couldn’t hold out any longer, it wasn’t physically possible. He hadn’t any choice in the matter, he was dying, like it or not. His heart felt as if it split in two as he listened to the anguished sounds of his distraught niece. And it only shattered at his brother's desperate and sorrowful mannerisms. 

 

 

Ford was dying and he couldn’t stop it, he'd prolonged himself as long as he'd been able to do so. His reservoir of endurance had trickled dry, he hadn't anything left to give, and it was raw and agonizing torture.

 

 

“S-Stan...k-kids... I... I’m s-sorry....” His dying voice hardly reached Stan and the kids, it nearly faded before they could pick up on it. “I... c-can't.... I’m s-so...t-tired.... I-I can’t.... I-I don’t....h-have...an-anything le-left to g-gi-….” He felt something inside of him rupture forcibly and violently; and he almost failed to bite back a cry of distress. Instead the cry was produced as a strangled whine deep within his throat. “I’m...j-just...so...t-tired...”  

 

 

Unshed tears misted within his eyes, and the embers of life within them dimmed so much so, that only a faint flickering of subdued light remained. And then he felt it, one of his lungs becoming weighed down with something warm and thick.

 

 

The unmistakable taste of blood flooded his mouth and assaulted his taste buds. His heart lurched disturbingly, which in turn caused the heart monitor to give off a slightly louder alarming beep, more mortifying than any of the readings of Ford's heart before it. 

 

 

Mabel felt the lurch of her Grunkle’s heart, and sharply pulled herself upward. She nearly stumbled over and onto Dipper in the process, “G-Grunkle Ford!” She cried shrilly, seemingly on the verge of hysteria. 

 

 

Ford’s hands suddenly flew towards him, he clutched his chest with one hand so forcefully that his already snow-white knuckles seemed to pale further, if that was even remotely possible.  

 

 

He had placed his other over his mouth, and was promptly cast into unyielding tremors by violent mangled coughs and gasps. Which didn't sound dry, instead it sounded wet.

 

 

There was also another horrific detail, the stomach-churning fact that deep down in his esophagus, a choked-up gurgle sounded off and had followed in pursuit after the coughs. The bout of torturous coughing came on suddenly and ended abruptly, leaving Ford in a slightly dazed state. The hand clutching against his chest remained locked there, stiff and unmoving.  

 

 

However, the other hand, covering his mouth, trembled tumultuous as he timidly pulled it away from his face. He didn't even take notice there was crimson coating it, painting his hand as red as the petals of a rose.

 

 

He didn’t have time to register the crimson, for Mabel had reached out and grasped his hand. Mabel pulled Ford’s hand to her, hoping to tether him to life somehow, but then her entire body went frigid as her hands came into contact with something warm, sticky and wet. She held the palm of Ford’s hand out in front of her, a splash of red infiltrated her vision, and she gasped so piercingly that it rivaled the wailing noise of the sirens.  

 

 

Mabel’s gaze snapped over towards her Grunkle Stan, her eyes reflecting her sheer terror. The child's face had paled rapidly in such a frightful manner, and the expression she displayed was beyond the point of being frantic. It was now stricken with overwhelming panic that she couldn't hope to contain. She turned Ford’s hand in Stan's direction, so he could clearly see the unmistakable stain of the crimson liquid now on Ford’s palm.  

 

 

 **“G-Grunkle S-Stan!”** She called out to him, her voice was a hushed, dejected, horrified and quivering whisper, and it was almost drowned out by the blares of the sirens. 

 

 

**The jarring revelation of Ford dispelling blood sent one chilling and sinister message:**

 

Ford's condition was infinitely more dire and bleak than they could have ever possibly envisioned. 

 

 

The moment that the crimson came out of his great-uncle's mouth, Dipper froze up. Mabel wasn't helping too much either by falling into her own panic, freaking Dipper out tenfold. The boy's breaths came out shaky and fast, enough to the point that he felt like he was being suffocated. Dipper's tears fell rapidly, feeling heavy as the salty liquid dribbled off of his cheeks and onto his shirt.

 

 

His eyes were wide open, but were tugged down as if gravity had increased in strength, his head dropped like a dead weight into his knees, as he hastily tucked them up close against his chest. Wishing he could just disappear.

 

 

His body struggled to squeeze himself into non-existence, despite not being able to. Everything only seemed to get much worse as he started to rock back and forth, attempting to find comfort in himself as his sister seemed too far away, like on another planet. His body seized with tremors that could rival earthquakes. 

 

 

One of the many things Stan would learn to regret, besides the majority of his entire life, he'd have to add not comforting Dipper or Mabel as everything began to fall apart rapidly. But even he was overwhelmed the moment Ford replied with coughing, enough to the point that he’d hacked up thick blood into his palm. 

 

 

Stan nearly fell backwards, due to a rushing surge of lightheadedness, and if it wasn't for his shaky arms having a death grip on the side of the ambulance he would have. Mabel holding up his brother's hand covered in that awful red wasn't helping either. Stan felt like he wanted to puke, yet there wasn't anything for him to puke up at the same time. Just that awful gut feeling. 

 

 

 **"G-GOD, STANFORD-!"**  Stanley struggled his way towards Ford, stumbling as the ambulance went over some bumps in the road, the edges of his vision catching a few bright lights of the town, but he didn't even acknowledge it. Stan's gaze was glued to his brother, as he watched in sheer horror as the vile red liquid seeped from his mouth. His eyes blurred with heavy tears, as his entire strong, 'tough love' persona just drained from his face and his heart. 

 

 

 **"S-Stanford... O-Oh hell-! W-What do I..."**  Stan turned his head sharply, feeling his neck crack a bit as he shouted for a medic. **"W-We need some help here, h-hurry-!**   **O** **h... O-Oh fuck-"** Stan didn't even have it in him to censor himself in front of the kids, he was too devastated and lost in the throes of his own trepidation. 

 

 

 **"Fuck, fuck-! Stanford, don't... d-don't... oh moses!-"** Stanley's voice jumped from harshly loud, to a panicked whisper, as if fighting a war for both of these wants. His arms trembled, his tears running free like waterfalls as he ran out of anger to fight with. He frantically reached towards Ford's hand, the one that was clutched against his chest, and grasped it in his.  

 

 

 **The male medic in the ambulance was rushing to them, but his attempts at trying to find the right thing, or if there even was one, felt like it took hours.**  

 

 

Hours that Stan's brother probably didn't have left.  **"S-Stanford... I-I..."** Stan wanted to help, oh god did he want to help. This was his twin, the one he fought thirty years for, who didn't deserve this, or having to deal with him. Ford had already had to deal with a demon, who Stan believed himself to be just as horrible as. Now Ford was having to deal with all this, it wasn’t fair, it wasn't fucking fair. 

 

 

 **Ford deserved better, and this... this wasn't it.**  

 

 

Stan had failed to protect his precious twin, again. Just like he always has and always will.  **"This is all my god-damn fault, I'm sorry, I'm so fu-fucking sorry! Ya didn't deserve this, m’sorry for being a... a screw up of a brother! I wanna help ya so damn much, I JUST CAN'T! I DON'T KNOW HOW TO... H-How to... god..."** Stan's voice burst out in a flurry of emotion that he didn't know how to contain.  

 

 

He sunk to his knees as they buckled on him, and he buried his face against Ford's shoulder. The sobs that had been trapped within him since he'd entered the ambulance, erupted out of his vocals, he was unable to suppress them. So, he surrendered, and allowed them to echo without restraint. 

 

 

Fuck, he didn't want this. He... had never wanted this to happen to Ford. Ford was his twin brother, and his best and only friend in the entire damn Universe. **"M-M'sorry I'm such a damn useless brother!"** Welp, if there were such a thing as last words to give to someone who is dying, Stan was doing awful with them in multiple ways.  

 

 

He was crippled with agony in knowing he could've helped him in the fire, and he hadn't and this is what happened. This was Stan’s punishment for not being there for Ford. He was going to have to watch Ford die, and it was all his fault and he couldn't do a damn thing to save him--- 

 

 

 **“Don’t die! Don’t ya dare fucking die on me, S-Stanford! Don’t leave me again! Wherever we go, we go together, but I can’t- I can’t go with ya if ya die! PLEASE!”**  

 

 

The ambulance came to a rather rough halt in front of the Hospital doors. The driver leaped out of the front door and dashed towards the back, he flung the door open and shouted out to his two paramedics that were already working frantically over Ford. 

 

 

 **“GET HIM AS STABLE AS YOU CAN! DO WHATEVER YOU MUST TO PRESERVE HIS LIFE, I’LL GO INFORM THE ER STAFF THAT WE HAVE A PATIENT IN CRITICAL.”** With that the driver hauled himself towards the front door of the hospital and slammed it open, vanishing from sight. 

 

 

Mabel’s positivity deflated like a balloon, and left her feeling empty and inconsolable. She was in hysterics at this point, and she had sobbed and wailed, and had struggled against the female nurse feebly as she had been moved to sit on the bench with Dipper.

 

 

Afterwards the nurse had went to examine Ford’s current state of frailty with the other medic. Mabel’s cries mixed in with her brother’s and her Grunkle Stan’s. Her agonized wailing for her Grunkle Ford had increased into nothing more than voiceless cries of despair. She clutched herself against Dipper and hid her face away into his shoulder, her tears soaking his shirt and seeping down into the skin underneath it. 

 

 

 **The three Pines had finally fallen to the storm, and were helpless to fight against it as it tore them from the inside out.**  

 

 

The next few moments were a blur as the two nurses worked to stabilize Ford. He laid there nearly lifeless, his eyelids fluttering open and closed, as desperation struck through him akin to a bolt of surging lightning. Though he was on the verge of giving into the beck and call of death, his family and how they were already releasing the mourning they’d been holding back, left him with a sense of renewed energy no matter how faint it was. He could feel it flickering up like an ember inside of his soul. 

 

 

Some more coughs, more blood, and shivers, all combined together, nearly making it impossible for Ford to cooperate coherently with the two medics. He hardly ended up doing the bare minimum of what was asked of him.  In a matter of a minute they concluded that one of his lungs were in the process of collapsing, and with that information up in the air, they managed to stabilize him as much as they were able to. 

 

 

The female nurse left the side of the gurney and pulled a lever down. It made a makeshift ramp that would allow them to roll the gurney out of the ambulance and into the hospital. “Hang in there Sir Pines, we’re entering the hospital now.” 

 

 

“W-Wait…” Ford managed to rasp, wanting just one last moment to speak with his family. He gazed towards his twin, and their great nephew and niece. His entire body as pale as a corpse, the prominent dark circles under his eyes popped out grimly in contrast to the paleness.

 

 

He reached up and placed his unsteady hand atop Stan's. With a fading whispering breath, he spoke, “I’ll t-try…” He didn’t know if he’d be able to keep his promise, but there wasn’t any way he was going to just leave his family in their panic without something to keep them from falling apart even more than they already have. He had to give them something, and all he could say in that moment was that he’d try to hold on.  

 

 

 **His eyes then slipped closed, as he fell back into oblivion.**  

 

 

The male nurse rushed him away, while the female nurse remained with the three distraught Pines left behind. “Come along, you can follow me to the waiting room. I swear that we’ll give you an update on his condition as soon as possible.” 

 

 

Time seemed to be crawling by inches, barely moving as Stan's feet were twitching uncomfortably, with his head in his hands. He hadn't said a single word from the moment they stepped out of the ambulance.

 

 

His eyes, peeking through his hands, were stuck on the door that seemed to have swallowed his brother whole. While they settled into the waiting room doctors of all certifications entered and exited to their stations. Every so often, a name would be called and some person waiting on a health checkup, or maybe a sick person would go in, or a family waiting for a surgery to finish up or something of the sort. In and out, that's all his eyes observed. 

 

 

Stan wasn't sure if he had blinked in the last hour, but the thought of that was barely recognized as he got up for probably his 17th cup of coffee, and he'd probably go for a pace outside for a bit, come back in, and rinse and repeat. Stan wasn't in a good state of mind at this time, it was pretty clear to even the people who didn't know the guy. It was just a cycle, and all he could think about was two things. Stanford, he supposed in general, and what happened between them.  

 

 

And the parting words of a promise that Stanford left them stung in his mind, like a scar. But not a bad one, however it felt like it would become one, if it was true that what happened in the ambulance was his fault. And why wouldn’t it be?

 

 

Stan couldn't help but recount the countless glaring errors he'd made tonight. There were no ifs, ors, or buts about it. It was just awful what he'd done or rather failed to do, and fate seemed to be dragging him to the bottom of his own ocean of despair. His heart tightened every time a nurse came out and called a name, not quite certain if he hoped for them to be called or not. 

 

 

**Whatever news was to come, Stan had an ominous feeling that it wouldn't be at all what they were hoping for.**

 

 

As Stan was lost in his own guilt-ridden thoughts, Mabel and Dipper sat in their chairs, lost and consumed by their own lamenting. Dipper was still just as frozen and stricken with grief and fear, just as he had been while in the ambulance.  

 

 

He was currently resting against his sister, shaking every so often and not really not saying much. This was very much unlike him, but it couldn't be helped. No one was in a good set of mind, and as much Dipper wanted to cheer up his sister, for Stan was pretty much inconsolable, he couldn't feel his legs or his arms at this point. He was numb, and scared to the point he felt like he was floating in a freezing spacial void. His eyes trailed around the room and then paused on the grayish-blue carpet beneath them in this awfully colored room of a grayish-turquoise? He couldn't tell if it was blue or green. It was just ugly and unsightly.  

 

 

He had been trying to calm down, or at the very least stop thinking about Ford ever since they settled into the room. Yet no matter how he tried to distract himself, his brain looped back to the thought of his great-uncle whom was dying...or perhaps he was already...? A shiver rolled through him as he squeezed his eyes shut. 

 

 

Every millisecond, second and minute that ticked on by was just one fleeting clock hand movement in the sands of time, that Mabel sank further into the blame of her own guilty consciousness. All she could do was stare at her crimson stained hands, that had long since dried, she couldn’t pry her gaze away from them. It was as if she were hypnotized by the dry patches of blood, cursed to stare at them for as long as she floundered like a fish out of water, on her polluted beach of guilt. 

 

 

Her tears trickled down her cheeks, yet she barely noticed them, her cheeks were alit with stinging burns and they were cherry red. Her tears had caused them to become blotchy and irritated, as if she had been burnt while playing out in the sun without sunscreen.  The passage of time stretched on before her, and she had never felt so low down in her entire life. She felt like an abused animal that had been beaten while it was down, without mercy or any respite from the agony. 

 

 

The walls seemed as if they were closing in around her, growing ever closer and closer, and her head was so light it was as though it were made up of nothing but old and stale cotton candy. The only time she’d ever break out of her sorrow induced reflections is when nurses would rush in and out, going about their duties, busy as bees attending to their hive, except in their case they weren’t out to gather pollen and such to create honey. They were retrieving the sick, the injured... the... the dying and bringing them back here to either save or lose those lives. After what seemed like forever, Mabel slipped off her chair and muttered something about having to wash off the blood on her hands, and she made her way over to the woman’s bathroom in the corner of the waiting room, and vanished into it. 

  

 

It was in that moment two others made their presences known, as they were escorted into the waiting room. Soos, followed by Wendy, entered the room and found Dipper sitting still as a statue, gloomy as if it were a stormy day and the rain would never cease to pour. Then there was Stan, whom couldn’t seem to sit still, pacing back and forth in the middle of the room, his arms wrapped around him, looking much like a man who had been deprived decades worth of a decent night’s sleep. Though that wasn’t actually too far removed from the truth when it came to Stanley Pines. Soos looked to Wendy and gestured her in the direction of Dipper, before he made his way over to Stan and gently placed a hand on his shoulder.  

 

 

“H-Hey Mr. Pines s-sorry we’re late sir, but we got held up by some traffic. There was a lo-lotta towns folk worried and wanting to know what happened. T-They also went to the s-shack to stop the last remaining flames. H-Has there been any word on Dr. Pines yet?” His voice was low and timid, not wishing to upset Stan, but desperately seeking to know what was going on. By the way Dipper and Stan were acting, and the fact Soos couldn’t seem to locate Mabel anywhere, led him to believe that whatever was going on couldn’t be anything less than grim. 

 

 

Wendy edged through the open door, entering the room and standing there awkwardly for a moment. Just looking at Stan and Dipper was making her heart break, and she had no doubt her heart would have broken even more so if she’d been able to locate Mabel.  Wherever Mabel must be, Wendy was aware of one thing, the poor kid must be utterly out of her mind with fear. If this was how Stan and Dipper were, then Mabel must be very messed up. With reluctant steps, she made her way over and sat beside Dipper, leaving Soos with Stan. She looked around, before her throat managed to loosen its grip on itself. 

 

 

"Dipper, hey-" She stumbled through her word choices, her fingers finding themselves digging into the chair. "H-He's gonna be alright. I might not know, umm, him that well, but..." Wendy patted him on the back, looking away from his small gaze. "In the time I've seen you two together, Dr. Pines doesn't seem like he'd go down that easily, now without a fight, anyways." Wendy frowned for a second, before pulling herself together smiling at Dipper, albeit small and slightly forced. 

 

 

Dipper began to calm down ever so slightly, looking at Wendy from behind his crumpled-up state. "I-I know." Dipper leaned against Wendy, using her like a pillow, similar to Mabel, just looking at his hands, and slightly towards Stan. Dipper’s breathing remained uneasy, as he studied his fidgety Grunkle, unable to read him and figure out what he must be thinking. Whatever it was though, Dipper knew it couldn’t be anything but negative at the very least. 

 

 

Stanley wasn't in a good state, as he looked up from his hands towards Soos. He didn't jump at the touch, but he seemed rather uncomfortable. His hand shakily rose and pointed towards the emergency doors, that separated the Pines family away from their fourth fallen Pine member. "I... They... Umm... Haven' come out y-yet with an-any word about..." The conman suddenly jerks away from Soos, almost knocking over a small stand next to him, with the abrupt motion. "Excuse me Soos, 'm goin’ out to get some uh, fresh air." Stan briskly walked passed Soos and the others, towards the main entrance. The door opened and lead out into the dark and cold early morning air, Stan absent-mindedly remembered that his coat was still with Ford, but he didn't really mind. It really didn't matter.  

 

 

His hand twitched about going to a pack of cigarettes in his pants pocket, a nasty habit that wasn't an intended side effect of being homeless so long ago. But then a certain voice popped into his head, which was of course his brother's. Ford definitely warned him specifically to end his nasty smoking habit. Subconsciously, he removed his hand from the box. 

 

* * *

 

 

* * *

 

 

Meanwhile, back inside the waiting room, Soos had an overwhelming urge, as if he should follow after Stan. Since Wendy and Dipper seemed preoccupied in their own conversation, and then there was the subject of Mabel’s whereabouts. Soos glanced around trying to locate her, and he wondered where she could have gotten to, though it turns out he didn’t even end up waiting for more than a few seconds to figure that little mystery out. A few seconds after Stan hastily excused himself outside, Mabel emerged from the bathroom and her posture was similar to that of a wilting flower. Her bangs were a ruffled mess, falling over her eyes and covering them from sight. 

 

 

However, it didn’t hide the fact she was still a crying and sniveling mess of tears. The tears rolled off of her face seemingly without an end, and her hands were soaking wet, leaving small pooling puddles behind her as she stumbled over to Dipper and Wendy. She froze before them, peering up at them through her brown locks, she whimpered like a lost puppy and when her mouth opened up what she said was haunting. 

  
 

 

**“I can’t get the blood off my hands.”**

 

Yet when she showed them her palms, there wasn’t any blood left, but what they did see was she had rubbed her hands raw. The poor child was so detached from reality, and distraught that she didn’t even realize that there wasn’t any blood left to wash off. 

 

 

 ** _Oh God._ **  

 

 

She still believed that Grunkle Ford’s blood was on her hands. 

 

 

Soos stood there at a complete loss of what to do for the poor girl-dude. He wished to stay and comfort Mabel, but Wendy and Dipper were here, and they’d comfort Mabel just as well, if not better than Soos. If Soos remained here to comfort Mabel then Stan wouldn’t have anyone to help him cope, and that just didn't seem fair at all. Why should Stan have to be left on his lonesome to deal with his own turmoil and grief? 

 

 

 **So, with that in mind Soos slipped outside---**  

 

 

Wendy's mouth closed into a concerned grimace, forcibly staring at Mabel's bare, rough hands. She picked them up, her hands gently going over Mabel's hands. She frowned, turning to Mabel. "Mabel, your hands... They don't have any-" Wendy shook her head.  "D-Don't go wash them again, okay? If there's any blood left, it'll go away if you wait." Wendy was honestly really concerned and uncomfortable. She couldn't possibly still be seeing blood, right?  _She was pretty much traumatized though. So... maybe_  

 

 

Dipper stumbled from his position and turned to his twin. "M-Mabel? Umm..." Dipper was obviously shocked, and a bit unraveled, enough to forget his slump from earlier. He just stared, his arms twitching. He grasped at her wrists, holding them towards himself, frowning heavily. These were heavy wounds of sorts. He turned to Wendy, clearly distraught. "There's nothing there, Mabel- W-Wendy, can you umm, get one of those nurses, standing there? Please?" Dipper's voice crawled out of his throat hesitantly.  

 

 

Wendy turned harshly, rushing over to a nurse, pointing at the young girl, her arm clearly and obviously shaking, to the point her voice did too. The nurse came over and gently took Mabel’s hands in hers and studied the poor child’s washed raw hands. After the nurse's assessment of Mabel’s hands, she rose up and patted her gently on her shoulder.  

 

 

“Stay here sweetie, I’ll go get some disinfectant and medical bandages.” The nurse left the three of them for a moment to go retrieve the needed items.  

 

 

Mabel’s stare was settled on her hands, she could still see the red blood all over them. Her Grunkle Ford’s blood, and shivers rushed up and down her spine as if someone had shoved a handful of ice or snow against her back and let it slip from the tippy top of her spine down to the very bottom of it.  **“Dipper… do… do you ha-hate me?”** Her voice was so forlorn and dismal, it was just heart-rending to hear coming from her mouth.

 

 

She’d only sounded like this but one time in her life, and it was last Summer when their Grunkle Stan had his memories obliterated to defeat Bill. Mabel sounded just as distraught as she had back then, as she does now. “I… I go-got Grunkle Ford hurt. It’s a-all m-my fu-fault!” She gasped out as her sobs began anew, she shook as her tears showered down onto the floor, soaking the ugly carpet underneath her socks. 

 

 

Dipper's eyes opened wide as if a bolt of lightning went right through him. His hairs stood up on their ends as he lifted from his position for a moment. Then, as suddenly as Mabel said those words, Dipper fell into Mabel's arms, hugging her closely. "I..." Dipper didn't know what to say. Mabel had never,  _never_  said anything that... that messed up before.

 

 

She's never been close to uttering those words so self-deprecating. His hands felt her hair as he frowned to himself. A part of him was mad. He could feel that. He was frustrated about how Mabel just ran back into danger for that gosh darn pig. 

 

 

He was also mad that she didn't think about what she was doing. But if there was one thing he definitely wasn't mad about, it was about her supposed version of the events and Grunkle Ford getting hurt because of her. And, even though he felt a tinge of anger, he could never  **hate**  Mabel.  

 

 

**This wasn’t her fault... right? It wasn't her fault. What happened had just been a series of unfortunate events. That's all.**

 

 

They were twins, through and through. Honestly, he was just happy she was okay.  _Well, okay as she could be._   **"I... I don't hate you Mabel. I don't think I could ever hate you."** Dipper's frown grew more painful as he held her tightly.  **"Not... Not ever."**  His voice shakily added.  

 

 

Wendy was still waiting over by where she talked to the nurse, stuck in her thoughts as she peered through the door, then her gaze fell on the twins hugging. She didn't want to ruin the moment so she just waited for the nurse who was going to help to return. 

 

 

Mabel’s sobs softened as she clung to her dear twin brother, as if he was the only thing keeping her from losing whatever shred of sanity that she had left. “I-I love you too b-bro-bro!” She managed to choke out, though it was very strained, it held nothing but relief and sincerity. For the first time tonight, the air around Mabel seemed a little lighter as she buried her face against Dipper's shoulder. 

 

 

“I-I’m s-sorry that I r-run in a-after W-Waddles. I-I just...I was s-so scared for him and... I s-shouldn't have-” She lamented, pouring out all her sorrows, letting them flow out into the tide of her own remorse and regret. “I-I’m r-really s-sorry I got G-Grunkle Ford hurt and... oh gosh Dipper how am I e-ever g-gonna look G-Grunkle Stan in his eyes again if... if Grunkle Ford...-” She couldn’t continue, it hurt far too much, so instead she opted for tightening her hug around her brother.  

 

 

The nurse finally returned with the disinfectant and the medical bandages, yet she stopped in the doorway as she watched the soul crushing scene before her. She turned to Wendy, “Hey, do you think you could apply this disinfectant to the poor little girl and wrap her hands up for me? I need to go and check up on something.” Before Wendy could even gain a word in edgewise the nurse left the items with her and then turned heel and rushed off. 

 

 

Dipper merely closed his eyes for a moment, before a small cough alerted them of Wendy's presence. Dipper gently pulled Mabel out to arm's length, his right arm remaining on her left shoulder. "We're the mystery twins, Mabel! Nothing's going to keep us down, r-right?" Dipper offered her a smile, before Wendy knelt down besides them.  

 

 

"Alright, this  _miight_  hurt a bit. Warnin' you. Disinfectant is never pretty." Wendy poured some of the disinfectant while Dipper held her hands open. She rubbed it in gently, trying to ignore Mabel's pained mumbles and flinching. Afterwards, she went and tightly bandaged two long strips of gauze to her hands.  

 

 

"It wasn't your fault Mabel, don't worry-" Dipper's voice broke in, before his mind thought of something. "Honestly, those bandages make you look pretty cool, I think!"  

 

 

Wendy piped in on the attempt to make Mabel feel better. "Yeah! You look like you're goanna start to fight or you survived something  **really**  cool!" She hoped this would be enough to get her mind off of what happened, if only for a bit. To be honest though, her bandages  _did_  kind of look cool. 

 

 

After the biting pinprick stinging of the disinfectant dulled down, Mabel sniffled and wiped her tears away. Her mouth quivered as she stared at Dipper and Wendy, and then she began to giggle, more tears trailed down her face, and little whimpers and sniffles intertwined with the giggles. It took her a moment to calm down, after her giggles and cries drifted out of her vocals, she smiled faintly and wriggled her fingers as she looked upon the medical bandages. 

 

 

“Y-Yeah I guess they do make me look like a really tough cookie! Heh nobody better mess with Mabel the fierce warrior of the stars!  This reminds me of how cool Grunkle Stan looked with that bandage on his hand right before the portal was opened! You remember right? It also makes me think of when I saw Grunkle Ford with bandages around his neck and his wrists one night! Oops… I uh…. I wasn’t supposed to say that! I promised Grunkle Ford I wouldn’t. Ohhh he’s gonna be sooooo mad when he finds out… uhm anyways I saw him with those bandages the night before the day we had to leave Gravity Falls, right after Weirdma-“  

 

 

Mabel’s words abruptly cut off and her faint smile become a frown of concentration. 

 

 

“Right after Weirdmageddon…” She hummed lowly to herself as she rifled through the data bank in her consciousness. “Hey Dipdop… we never did ask Grunkle Ford what Bill did to him… did we?” 

 

 

Dipper frowns, recalling in a few short moments that they really never did ask. Albeit a bit selfish, they just haven't thought to ask before. He was sort of at least frustrated that they didn't think to ask. But... 

 

 

"I guess we'll just have to..." 

 

 

 _Ask him when he wakes up? IF HE DOES-_  

 

 

Dipper silenced that thought before even he could think much about it, not including all of the moments prior. He smiled at Mabel, shrugging innocently with this dorky expression, as he settled back down into his seat. 

 

"-ask him when he wakes up, you know?" 

 

 

Wendy smiled, joining in, their conversation lightening with probably every word at this point. Dipper eventually after a bit of laughter, had his face visibly lower, dampening with some ache he had. Mabel could see it, but Wendy seemed almost distracted, her head facing the window, her mouth still curved into a small smile. 

 

 

Dipper just was staring at the clock, the ghost of a smile rested sadly on his face. What if it was hopeless? He honestly hoped not, but his mind kept racing. He was fine though. Always just fine. 

 

 

“Y-Yeah! Of course, we can ask Grunkle Ford when...when he wakes up! R-Right!” Mabel’s words were a rush of strained hope and nervousness. “Cause he’s so totally gonna, right? I mean why wouldn’t he not wake up? You know Grunkle Ford, nothing keeps him down for long. Nope, nothing at all!” She clapped her hands together, before wincing, squinting one eye closed, and shuddering. “Oops, m-maybe I shouldn’t be using my clappers right now?” 

 

 

Dipper blinked, looking back at Mabel, his mouth pinning back into a small smile. His hands went to her wrists, pulling them down slightly, as he looked away towards Wendy. "Don't do that you goof. If you keep that up you might get hurt..." Dipper laughed slightly, his head resting deeply against the cushions of the chair. He felt really tired now.  _Like really tired._   

 

 

Before Mabel even could move, Dipper went out like a light into the cushion. 

 

 

 **Thinking about it, by this point it was pretty late.**  Possibly around three in the morning or perhaps even four. 

 

 

Wendy turned and laughed, deciding to prop herself up against the seat and snickered at Dipper. She unlocked her phone noting that Dipper was pretty out of it, the more she thought about it, the more it showed. Dipper had already been staying up late repeatedly before this all went down. It almost reminded Mabel of the time she’d tried to make a certain sock opera. 

 

 

Mabel crawled into her own chair next to Dipper and let out a soft yawn, her eyes starting to flutter closed.  “H-Hey Wendy? Pro-Promise you’ll wake me and Dip, wh-when the nurse calls for us? I want to know exactly what’s going on with Grunkle-” Another yawn interrupted her voice, she cleared her throat and sighed, “- Grunkle Ford, so please wake us? Oki doki loki?”  

 

 

Wendy turned gently back towards the twins. She fell down onto the chair, turning her attention to Mabel. Her mouth curled into a smile, as she glanced to the door for a moment. "Alright dude. I'll be sure to nudge you slowly off the seats when they show up." She laughed gently. 

 

 

"G'night you two." 

  

 

Wendy rested her head on her wrist and hand, watching the movement of the emergency doors, flurrying back and forth with nurses and doctors... 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I bet you're all BREATHLESS with anticipation to know what's going on with Ford, and why his lungs are collapsing and why he hacked up blood? I can assure you that this will be revealed in all good time!
> 
> I bet your feels are just positively STRANGLED at this point huh? Are you perhaps CHOKED up? Are you SUFFOCATING on your own tears?
> 
>  
> 
> Well hold your breath everyone, cause you're gonna need all the oxygen to spare, so that you can cry your lungs out!~
> 
> Trust me, this story will leave your lungs constricted with how much crying you're going to be doing!
> 
> Sayonara for now, until next chapter~


	3. I Wanted To Be A Better Brother, Better Son, Wanted To Be A Better Adversary To The Evil I have Done; I Have None To Show To The One I love, But Deny, Deny, Denial

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He's come back from the past.  
> This appearance may not be his last.  
> A man not easily impressed and as tough as cinder blocks.  
> Into the darkness of the morning hours he mocks.  
> As one son is cast underneath his gloom and cowering.  
> And one in the hands of fate, lying there possibly dying.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter 3 is here! WOOOOH! Hope you enjoyed this chapter just like the last! Feel free to kudos, bookmark and leave a comment! Ivy and I are always craving to hear your thoughts! Also happy holidays~
> 
> The title of this chapter is lyrics taken from the song: Polarize by Twenty One Pilots.

* * *

 

* * *

 

* * *

Soos ended up finding Stan gazing off dismally into the distance outside of the Hospital, leaned up against a pillar, looking disheveled and worn. He opened his mouth to say something, but closed it promptly when he couldn’t find any words to give to the man he looked up to as his father figure. Soos frowned and stared down at the ground, narrowing his eyes as did so, while rubbing at the back of his neck with his left hand, cast away into bewilderment.

 

 

**Feeling like a useless lump of a son.**

 

What good was he as a son, when he couldn’t make the man he considered his dad feel better? Soos never felt more frustrated in his entire life than he felt right now. After a few seconds of deliberation, he finally spoke up. “I’m sorry for following you Mr. Pines, I know that maybe you might wanna be alone right now, but I dunno if that’s the best thing for you cause like, you probably been alone many times in your life. And that’s just not fair, and you probably haven’t had anyone to be there for you… so I thought maybe I could be here for you...I… mean if… if you want me to be here.” He began to fidget with his hands nervously, hoping he hadn’t crossed a line or anything.

 

 

Soos honestly just wanted to show Stan that he didn’t have to deal with his suffering all alone, and that if he let others in, they'd be more than willing to be his support beams when he was just too worn and exhausted from the weight of the many sorrows that were haunting him relentlessly.

 

 

Stan's hand twitched by his pocket as Soos spoke. He resolved not to use the cigarettes, and he didn't want to, but something about Soos, or maybe the situation made him want to do something familiar.He couldn't tell which. As he heard the part about being alone before, his hand nearly shot down into his pocket in a fraction of a second, his mental state in fractures. It made him feel many things, that almost mirrored many past experiences that had caused him similar pains such as this. Namely he’d felt this way when he’d knocked Ford into the portal. His entire state was in shambles back then as it is now, a multitude of emotions he couldn’t keep control over nearly torn him in two.

 

 

His eyes, which slowly drained his tears from his body, seemed to grow heavy with water again, a tear or two managed past his resolve, falling onto his clenched hands. "Soos, umm, h-hey." His blubbering made himself feel much, much worse than before. As he looked up, preparing to turn to the man he'd call son, he saw a disturbing sight from a nearby potted plant.

 

 

" **ABSOLUTELY FUCKIN' PATHETIC..."**

 

 

The plant's pot faded a light blue, glowing until the point that the glow itself manifested into something, or someone. After a bit more details appeared, Stan's legs grew shaky, backing up a few paces as he pressed himself back against pillar. "G-Guh-!" His lungs clutched up, clawing at his body in unrelenting horror. It was like it was killing him from the inside, just looking at it... at him. No other ghost could give him such a freeze-up, or any ounce of fear that this one did.

 

 

**His father, his awful, gosh darn father, floated there, his arms already in a cross, his face in a scowl.**

 

 

Already disappointed again, and Stan didn't dare move since his appearance. The mouth moved out of a scowl, forming growling words, almost just as menacing as before. Stan swore that it was the same exact tone he heard 41 years ago now.

 

 

Soos could see the apparition just as well as Stan could. Stanley's voice was almost stripped to the bark, his head already tilted down, looking at the gravel beneath his feet, barely recognizing Soos in the background. Filbrick's voice boomed, only reaching the pair of them.

 

 

**"Pathetic! Just pathetic."**

 

 

Soos’s eyes became as wide as the silver moon illuminating the sky above them. He stared awestruck at the ghostly figure before him and Stan, his jaw had fallen open in his utter shock. Though after the initial surprise faded away, Soos took a distressing mental note that Stan was cowering like a child being subjected to a Night terror. Then he heard words that caused his heart a stabbing pain, like his heart was butter and the pain being inflicted upon it was the sharp edge of the butter knife being plunged into it. He wasn’t all too certain who this ghost was or what he wanted, but he was certain of one thing, Stan was terror stricken and the intimidating spiritual apparition was berating him.

 

 

 **”You’re just as pathetic as ya were the night I threw your sorry ass on the curb! Look at yourself son! It’s been forty-one years and ya still ain’t got anything to show for yourself! You’re still that no good lyin’ little piece of shit ya always was!** ” The toxic and loathing aura around Filbrick Elmer Pines flared as an unnatural shadow was cast over Stan.

 

 

Every muscle in Soos’s body tensed up as he realized that this ghost before him must be none other than Stan’s father. The not easily impressed and as tough as cinder blocks man, as Stan had put it when he told the kids and Soos his life story last Summer after Ford emerged from the Portal. Something within Soos ignited and rapidly rose all throughout his being. He wasn’t quite certain what possessed him to speak up, yet his mouth opened and the words filled the night air.

 

 

“Excuse me s-sir! Mr. Pines’s dad! You know uh, that’s not very nice uhm what you’re saying. So, I don’t know- maybe you might not wanna be so mean, cause he’s your son and… well dads should always care about their sons. So yeah, uhm, maybe don’t be so hard on him.”

 

 

Stanley Romanoff Pines started to clutch his shirt tightly, as if hoping to disappear from his father's gaze. He swore those eyes stared right through him. Every word felt like a knife that was taken in the hands of a psychopath and dug into his skin, taken in slow, heavy cuts down his heart and chest. As soon as one ended, another began in his heart. His memories vaguely recalled a much, much younger version of him running ashamedly to his twin brother to avoid his father, but there he stood being a coward to his own fear.

 

 

**He couldn't go to his brother, not now... and it was all his damn fault.**

 

 

"I... Stop..."

 

 

He wished he could call out for some help from Ford right about now.

 

 

Filbrick's body moved unnaturally, fading in and out, but becoming especially strong when he spoke. His gaze glossed over to the other person who decided to interrupt him. He took one look at this ashamed man, and nearly barked with laughter that this was all Stan got as a back-up.  **"Look at this little entourage ya have here. Jus' some kid with no common sense! I'm so moved, I'd ought to teach ya that nothing's perfect right now, but I'd doubt you'd listen, especially if you're listening to this waste o' space!"**

 

 

Filbrick smiled, before it fell into a disappointed frown, and a dismissive attitude. His gaze settled back on his worthless son.  **"I watched the WHOLE thing Stanley. Ever since I died, I wanted to see how useless ya were out in the real world, just as I predicted. I wasn' wrong, was I, Stanley? Look at ya. A PATHETIC son like you really pisses me off. You ruined everything, including your god-awful twin brother. Stanford shoulda done better than side with ya. Your sorry ass weighed him down, and now look where he ended up! THE HOSPITAL! Almost to be six-feet underground. What an idiot."**

 

  
Filbrick was starting to look a bit pleased, although with his glasses, neither of them could tell. His gaze fell over Stanley's expression.  **"Ya are fucking crying. Ya are such a sorry piece of crap for a son. And for once, I'm guessing ya ran outta places to hide for once. That's somethin' I haven't seen before, ya coward."**

 

 

Soos blinked as that ignition within him flickered and flared, surging all through him, it didn’t take long for him to realize that what he was experiencing was none other than a cold fury. It wasn’t commonplace for the lovable lug to ever become riled up, but Stan’s father was rubbing him the wrong way all over and he didn’t like it one bit. The cold fury he felt wasn’t because Filbrick was attacking him personally, it was because Filbrick was causing sorrow to Stan. He completely ignored what Filbrick had to say about him and shook his head at what he had to say about Stan.

 

 

“Mr. Pines’s dad, I don’t think you have seen everything. C-Cause if you did see everything then you’d know that Stan saved Ford from that portal thingy! S-Sure it mighta taken him a long time, b-but he did it all the same. He worked so long and so hard! He a-also made a fortune for himself! And then he became a hero to ev-everyone when he defeated that evil triangle guy Bill Cipher! Does that not make you proud? Does that not make you impressed? A-Are you lying when you say you’ve seen everything? Cause you s-shoulda known that! Or are you just going to ignore it cause then it would mean you were wrong for b-being such an uncool dude?”

 

 

Filbrick’s form flickered as he appeared to move back slightly, which was rather unusual for the intimidating man that he was. That famous scowl of his, the one Stan saw often in his childhood, settled itself upon his expression as he let out a cruel and hollow laugh.

 

 

 **“Well well well, looks like ya got some pluck in ya after all, ya big buffon. Never woulda thought! Hell, if it matters though, so what if my screw up son did somethin’ right in his life? He sure took his damn sweet time in doing so! Couldn’t even do it when his old man was still alive, could he?!** **As I do recall I told him he wasn’t welcome in the Pines household until he made millions! So, what if he made them now? He still FAILED to return home with the millions HE cost us! He failed because he couldn’t get his shit together and be a man! Save the world?! Hardly! He fucked up because he couldn’t even shake Stanford’s hand.** **Him saving the world was only sheer dumb luck if I ever saw it. Stanford was about to defeat that demon, and he would a too if Stanley hadn’t been such a foul up and stayed in his own god damn lane. What if there was no memory gun, then what?!** **What crazy hare-brained scheme would Stanley have had up his sleeve to defeat that maniac? I got your answer and it ain’t NOTHIN’. If there wasn’t any memory gun, then the Universe would have perished, all because of my screw up son! It was just DUMB luck! He ain’t no hero, he ain’t no man, all he is, is a waste of a human being!”**

 

Stanley felt each remark like a burn to his soul. His head tilted towards Soos, his eyes widening in the final realization. His face was still numb-like, although obviously fearful. It disappeared for a moment as he tried to open his mouth. "Soos, get outta here- this isn' your battle-!" He honestly didn't want him getting hurt by  _him_ , although he did wonder how much his father  _could_  do. Either way, he definitely didn't want whatever he  _could_  do to happen to Soos. "Get inside, ya lug!" His voice merely faltered at the end, as Filbrick got closer, apparently looking into the depths of his soul, and making Stan feel really, really uncomfortable, his head and arms falling stiffly down. 

 

 

Soos however defied Stan’s orders, instead he placed himself between Stan and Filbrick. He glanced back over his shoulder at Stan.

 

 

“Sorry Mr. Pines but what kind of son would I be if I didn’t stand up for my dad now? I wouldn’t be a very good son if I left you hanging Mr. Pines, especially if I left you hanging with such a really unrad dad that was making you bummed out. Don’t listen to him Mr. Pines, he’s just angry cause he was wrong about you. He can’t handle being wrong so he has to take it out on you, plus he’s like not being very much of a good man. My Abuelita said that good men were those who loved and cared for their friends and their family, and would go to great lengths to protect them. Like you do Mr. Pines, you do all those things so you must be a real man. But your dad doesn’t do any of those things, so what does that make him? Not a man, not a good dad or even a person, I think." 

 

 

 **"Looks like the kid doesn't even listen to ya, son."**  Filbrick's voice echoed heavily now. His eyes hidden heavily behind his glasses, although they were definitely blank.  **"Well, for a kid so broken in language, he has the bravery of a lion. Sounds a lot like the disappointment right behind him."** His voice mocked slightly as his voice rose with every edge of anger that rose.  **"Stanley, here's another hint to ya. Take it, or not, but you better stop lettin' people down, or you're just gonna continue to get beaten down. You've already taken my only son away anyways, ruined millions, and every step just leaves a dark ink stain on my carpet, so why not finally learn somethin-!"**  Filbrick took a few steps back, his mouth tightening into a grimace, an almost sadistic one, he raised his fist, clenched so tightly, aiming right for Soos.  

 

 

Now, Stan knew, that ghosts can't hurt anyone. Not without some magic or something to channel into. A punch would barely do anything, but even still, he felt a rush of adrenaline. 

* * *

 

 

* * *

 

 _"Ya useless sack of crap! Look at this'! This vase, this stupid god damn vase!_   **STANLEY-!**   _Get t'hell in here!"_  

 

 

 _"I-I d-didn' do nothin'-, I-"_  

 

 

 _"LOOK AT WHAT YA DID!"_  

 

 

 _"T-That wasn' me, it... i-it was-"_  

 

 

 _"Who, Stanford? I highly doubt it was 'im, he's ain't able to hurt a fly!"_  

 

 

 _"A-Ahmmm... U-Uhh-"_   

 

 

 **_"YA ARE GOING TO PAY FOR THIS-"_ ** 

 

 

  _A swing was_ _t_ _aken_ _, a heavy, weight swing was surely aimed for his head._  

 

 

 _But..._   

 

 

 _Something got in the way._   _Both of them heard glass breaking, a sharp gasp, and a thud against the floor._   

* * *

 

* * *

Stanley was on the ground. Dirt roughed up his hands, as he was on his knees. His glasses were shattered. Just like so many decades ago, he recalled how Ford had once taken a hook from their father to protect him, after Stan had broken the vase, and how his glasses shattered then. Now here Stan was, having taken a punch from his father, to protect Soos from receiving the same treatment that he’d once been subjected too in his youth. 

 

 

 **Weird how history repeats.**  

 

 

Soos didn’t even think, all he did was act as he fell to his knees and used his hulking frame to shield Stan from Filbrick after the first punch, just in case he tried to deliver another. “M-Mr. Pines! Are you alright?!” He gushed in utter shock, his mouth nearly failing to form his words. He placed a hand on his shoulder, as he stared at Stan’s cracked glasses. A deep frown stretched over Soos’s face and he turned towards Filbrick, his eyes shimmering and glittering with a subdued stormy rage. “E-Excuse me Mr. Pines’s dad! I think you need to leave now.... l-like right now! B-Before I have to throw down, and junk!” He got to his feet and stood up as tall as he could, staring piercingly at Filbrick, his hands clenched into fists. 

 

 

Now he didn’t know much about spirits and if they could even be physically touched or not, but he wasn’t all too concerned about it, if anything he just wanted Filbrick to leave. Nobody treated Soos’s father like this and got away with it. “Y-You aren’t a good man, dude. See I might not really know what fathers are supposed to be like, seeing as my own dad left me all alone. But I think... I think a good dad would be a lot like Mr. Pines here. H-He's been kind to me, he gave me someone to look up to and admire, and that’s what a good dad probably is. B-But you si-sir aren’t a very good dad. Dads shouldn’t hit their sons, it’s not right.” 

   
 

 **"How dare you tell me how to act! I can treat him as I'd like, and it's not like he's had much else, geez kid."**  Filbrick made a face of what looked like a mocking smile.  **"I'm the best dad they ever had. Or... well, the only dad that my only son, whose currently on a hospital bed, has. This one-"**  His hands pointed at Stan behind him, who was cradling the remains of his glasses.  **"Is no son of mine."**   

 

 

Stanley felt like he had a bruise, but feeling around, he had no marks, much less any bruises. He chalked it up to ghost stuff. He tried to stand up, but the phantom bruise seemed to be giving him a massive headache, settling himself back on the floor.  His eyes trained on his  _father_.  "G-Get away from him Soos. He needs ta get the hell outta this town, away from..." He glanced back at the hospital. 

 

 

Soos shook his head firmly, whispering an apology under his breath at Stan, before he took a step forward towards Filbrick. “Well if you hit your kids, then you ain’t a dad, dude. Heck you aren’t even a man either. Dads and men don’t need to resort to violence, at least not real ones. Also, how dare you sir, how dare you for hurting my dad like this. I respectfully ask that you leave and like never come back, cause if you do then well, I know about Dr. Pines’s journals and I know there must be something in there than can get rid of a nasty dude like you.” He paused for a moment, his eyes crossing in concentration and resolve. “I dunno like maybe some sorta exorcism? But yeah anyways, you should leave and not come back, or I’ll like banish you into uh the uhm...? Wherever it is that ghosts get banished to!” 

 

 

Filbrick's hand clenched into a fist again in full anger. His teeth barred while his mouth was pinched into a grimace.  **"Don't get smart with me, kid. You can't make me leave, not when the garbage hasn't been taken out yet."**  Filbrick seemed unpleased at his joke, his frustrations growing higher and higher.   **"Stanley, ya coward-! Always being defended by people. I'm honestly surprised ya dove in front of this idiot. That's one for you, and hundreds for every time you ran, or let ya brother try to TAKE THE BLAME! And trust me, I figured it out quickly with your little dress-up game-!"**  Filbrick's expression grew even more enraged. Stan barely remembered it, but it was Ford's idea to change clothes most of the time to have Stan avoid some stupid punishment.  

 

 

Sure, he got caught and hit sometimes, but that was Ford's way of handling it so he didn't get messed up so much. He couldn't ever reason with Filbrick in the first place, so whenever the fault was rightfully Ford's, or on most occasions Stan's, he took the fault. Even when it was truly Ford's fault, Filbrick always excused him and opened his anger on his  _little punching bag_. After all, that's how they figured out that changing clothes and with enough impersonation, they could fool about anyone.  

 

 

The only thing that ever gave it a way was Ford's six fingers. What a way it had to go, being that's how they decided to take Bill down, a long time ago. Stanley was, to his knowledge, being a total pansy, but his headache just didn't let him get up, not without difficulty. He stumbled once or twice more before listening in on his father's words, trying to figure what he could do, despite being blind to any choices. 

 

 

A faint pressure began to surround Soos, he didn’t quite notice it at first, seeing as he was too absorbed in his focus on Filbrick. “Dude if I was joking, you’d know, I might not have much going for me, but I do know one thing. Nobody messes with my dad, he’s the best dad I got and he’s more of a man than you’ll ever be and---” The pressure rapidly increased, and Soos collapsed onto the ground with a loud thud and a grunt. He was glowing with some type of black and blue aura. 

 

 

 **“THAT OUGHT TA KEEP YA BUSY, YA MEDDLESOME OAF.”**  Filbrick’s clenched fist was glowing with the same aura that surrounded Soos. **“NOW WHERE WAS I?”**  He pulled back his fist, glaring down upon Stanley,  **“NOW THAT YA LITTLE BODY GUARD CAN’T PROTECT YA, IT’S TIME FOR ME TA TEACH YA ONE LAST TIME BOY. TEACH YA THAT YA AIN’T EVAH GONNA BE NOTHIN!”** His fist rushed forward, aimed right between Stan’s eyes--- 

 

 

The punch never made contact. Instead Filbrick let out a distorted growl of discomfort as a blast of energy surged and pushed him back.  **“WHAT THE DEVIL IS---?”**  Something gold and glittering appeared before Stan and Soos, along with it a transparent maroon colored bubble of energy shimmered around them, like a shield protecting the two of them from Filbrick’s wrath. 

 

 

 **“WHAT!? WHY YA PIECE OF---”**  Filbrick’s aura flared violently as he charged towards the bubble of energy and slammed his fist into it once again. Only this time he was blasted even further away, as the gold on the bubble sparked and shimmered with an intense glow, that rivaled that of the sun’s rays. Filbrick’s form was starting to come undone, it was as if he were just a video game character in the process of glitching out due to a major bug in his coding. 

 

 

 **“SO, YA DEFEND HIM EVEN NOW? WHY? WHY AFTER EVERYTHING HE’S DONE! AFTER EVERYTHING HE COST YA? HE RUINED YA LIFE! HE BETRAYED YA TRUST AND YA STILL FUCKING DEFEND HIS SORRY ASS! I THOUGHT YA WAS SMARTER THAN THAT! LOOKS LIKE BOTH OF YA ARE JUST A COUPLE OF DAMN FAILURES!** **I SHOULDA KNOWN BETTER THAT THE BOTH OF YA WOULD BE! FINE TA HELL WITH THE BOTH OF YA! DO WHAT YA WANT, PROTECT THAT SCREW UP! SEE IF I GIVE A DAMN! JUST DON’T COME CRAWLING TA ME WHEN YA START REGRETTING IT! AS OF NOW I HAVE NO DAMN SONS!”**   

 

 

His form began to break away even more, the way he was falling apart brought memories flooding back to Stan. Filbrick’s break down resembled that of Bill’s break down in Stan’s mind when the memory gun was burning away his memories. The whole parallel before Stan was eerie, and just what was Filbrick speaking of? And how did this energy bubble around him and Soos come to be? Did Filbrick perhaps see something that they could not? 

 

 

Stanley, whose headache ebbed away slowly, raised his hand and pressed slightly against the bubble, before it dissolved quickly beneath his fingertips. He watched Filbrick closely as he crouched down, checking on Soos. 

 

 

 **"YA BOTH ARE WORTHLESS! LOOK AT YA BOTH, YA BOTH DISRESPECT YOUR OWN BLOOD AND BONES, HOW IDIOTIC-!"** Filbrick's voice dissolved as well, into glitches and screams. **"AA-AA-AAAAA-AAA--A--AAAA-!"** Filbrick's form tried to disappear into the woods, before glitching and dying out before he could get anywhere. 

 

 

**And then Filbrick was gone, vanished, as if he’d never been there in the first place.**

 

 

Stan's eyes were as wide as the moon above them, he quickly closed his eyes, taking a deep breath, shakily getting up. His arms propped him up against the pillar besides him, as he realized the soreness that he had moments before disappeared as if nothing happened. He lowered his hand, offering to help Soos up, as he looked around wearily and confused, trying to figure out what exactly just saved them.

 

"Soos, ya'alright?" His mind raced around, trying to wrap around his father's last words, but nothing came up. He had absolutely no idea. It frustrated him, but it didn't mean he wasn't glad it happened. 

 

 

"Sorry 'bout that Soos. Shouldn't have... ah, happened." Stan looked away, frowning in his awkward demeanor, getting back his persona quickly. He brushed off his pants before his gaze landed on Soos once more. 

 

 

"Haha no sweat! Man am I glad that's over with. I really didn't want to have to throw down. I mean, I don't even know if I could have, given he was a ghost spirit thing." Soos teetered as he stood but thankfully, he managed to keep his balance. He shook away the dizziness from his head and let out a groan as he placed one hand against the left temple of his head. "Whoa dude that was crazy, I can't believe that was your dad Mr. Pines. I dunno what just happened, probably more Gravity Falls weirdness? But wow we got really lucky that it decided it was on our side, that coulda gotten even worse." He shuddered, his gaze trailed over to the place where Filbrick vanished.  "I don't know how that uncool guy can be related to you or Dr. Pines. Both of you are like majorly awesome, and well that guy you call a dad is like a Debbie downer." 

 

 

Stan felt as if there was something familiar to him about that 'Gravity Falls weirdness', but he couldn't think of what. He took a few more heavy, shaky breathes, before wording his next words. "I..." Stan's harsh cough came back to haunt him mid-sentence. "W-Worst timin' I'd say. God-" He pressed against the pillar, looking at Soos, making sure he didn't actually fall over. "Ah, he was neva' a good guy. Trust me on that Soos." 

 

 

He swore he could still hear Filbrick speak, it echoed and unnerved him, although Stan knew he was gone. Whatever that shield did, it wasn't merciful to whatever his father was made of. A few more coughs later, he started taking in exactly what Soos said, bringing up that he was his father. Honestly, it didn't exactly shock him. He did believe he was a sort of figure like that to Soos, but he never actually considered Soos saying it outright. Which was weird. Maybe Soos has called him that before, but he never noticed or was in earshot when he had. 

  

 

Stan shrugged innocently in his silence, before turning his focus to the front door of the Hospital, deciding that there had been enough of, whatever happened out here, for a night. "C’mon, let's jus' get inside." He turned to Soos as he steadied himself walking, setting a hand on his shoulder. He couldn't help but give dirty stares back over to where his father had vanished.

* * *

 

* * *

Two hours later and for reasons that couldn’t be explained, the entire Pines family was awake, although exhausted. Every other soul, besides the staff, had left the hospital, leaving the Pines Family the only ones, save for the receptionist, in the waiting room. Suffice to say, none of them were fairing well, not at all.  

 

 

Mabel was fidgety, she was combing through her hair with her hands, there still hadn’t been any word on Grunkle Ford yet. She took a quick look at everyone around her. Soos was sitting down, playing on his handheld system, though he seemed rather distracted, and she kept hearing the game over tune coming from the handheld every few minutes. Soos wasn’t one to lose at games often, so everyone knew that he must be highly unnerved. 

 

 

Then there was Wendy, who was flipping through app after app, her face contorted in frustration, as if she just couldn’t find anything distracting enough on her phone.  

 

 

Dipper besides Mabel, who was as if on cue, chewing on his shirt, he still hadn’t quite grown out of his chewing habit. And it wasn’t until he bit down on the collar of his shirt, and discovered a foul-tasting old ketchup stain, that he spat out the fabric and his face scrunched up in utter disgust. 

 

 

Stan who was a bundle of frayed nerves. He kept pacing and pacing around, not being able to sit for even a few seconds at most at a time. Mabel had taken notice that Stan’s glasses were cracked, she kept staring because of the irony of it all. Stan’s glasses were cracked in a manner that mirrored the way Ford’s glasses had a crack in them, except in Stan’s case the crack was on the other lens and it was larger and more damaged. Not to mention Stan’s glasses now settled crookedly on his face as well. Mabel’s gaze followed Stan as he paced, muttering things under his breath that were too hushed to hear. Stan’s whole nervous ticking was starting to get to Mabel.  

 

 

It was as though Stan was attempting to find something to soothe his frazzled mental state of mind, yet he couldn’t break the surface tension enough to do so. The tension in the room lurked below the surface, as if it were a deep-sea creature about to breech the tumultuous waves, and drag them all down into the abyss with it. She wondered what happened, yet she didn’t bother prying. Her mind was too focused on what was going on with her Grunkle Ford. It had been three hours now, and yet there hadn’t been nary a word on his condition. The brunette shuffled her feet against the carpet and began to count backwards from ten, over and over and over and--- 

 

 

There came a low creaking of a door, and a nurse stepped out into the waiting room. In one hand they held a clipboard, in the other they held a familiar pair of glasses. The disheveled and worn nurse’s gaze locked with the Pines family. The nurse called out, and their voice held a somberness that didn’t bode well. 

 

 

 **“Pines Family.”**  

 

 

Each one of their tilted their heads up, some nervous, some downcast, and some maybe relieved? Each of them were in certain moods, and probably on edge over all of this time sitting here without a word. Dipper, who just disgusted himself silently due to his habit, had his head shoot straight up, his heart already dropping at her tone. It was quite foreboding. Dipper hesitantly slid off of the chair, wringing his hands together nervously. His steps were uneven and uneasy. His tongue felt as if it were tied in a knot as he took his steps towards the nurse in front of them, coming to a stop, gazing up at her quizzically, a hint of worry gleaming in his eyes. 

 

 

Wendy gently lowered her phone, and quickly, rather frustrated at the lack of distractions for the past hours, slid her phone into the back pocket of her pants. She stumbled up as her mouth curved in concern towards the nurse. She turned back slightly raising a hand to have Mabel hold onto, if she so wished. Her teeth went to biting her lip tensely. She didn't know what to say, she just wanted the Pines family, that she sort of was welcomed into, to be happy.  

 

 

Stanley stumbled in his sudden stop. His mumbling got caught on the branches of fear as his heart skipped a beat, before dramatically falling into his chest. His head was abruptly faced towards the lady, who didn't seem to have the best news. Which is what he feared most. His first steps towards her lined up almost with Dipper's, upon his arrival beside her, he only stared at the pair of infamous glasses that he knew too well. Their familiar crack made him feel even more like gagging already. His hand shakily moved towards them, taking them quietly, frowning to himself.  

 

 

Surprisingly, Stan was the first one of the family to say something. "Miss... is my... is my brother alright...?" He had a sinking feeling of dread ever since he stepped into here, and looking through his cracked lens at the nurse who had all of the information about his brother made him feel ten times sicker. He wasn't looking forward to the answer. 

 

 

Mabel quickly latched her hand onto Wendy’s as they made their way to the nurse. The child outstretched her hand and gently tugged at the hem of the Nurse’s uniform. 

 

 

“M-Miss is... is my Grunkle okay?” Her words shook as they echoed hollowly throughout the waiting room. Mabel couldn’t help but shuffle her feet as she waited rather impatiently, yet all at once, apprehensively for the news.   

 

 

Soos flicked his handheld off and shoved it into his pocket, he lumbered over and stood next to Stan. He placed a hand on his shoulder in a gesture of comfort, and waited anxiously for the nurse to give them the report on Ford’s current state of being. Whatever it was, it didn’t seem as if it could be anything positive, what with how the Nurse looked. She looked utterly drained of any energy and her expression was sympathetic and a tad uncertain.  

 

 

With a soft sigh the Nurse spoke, and what she had to say was possibly the worst news that any family could receive about a loved one. “Look, I’m not going to lie to you, Pines family and I hate to bring the bearer of such bleak news.” The Nurse held her clipboard against her chest tightly as she studied them for a briefly before continuing.

 

 

“Stanford’s condition is by all means frail, we nearly lost him when he flatlined for five minutes two hours ago.

We were in the process of taking a look at his lungs and discovered something rather alarming. It appears as though the inner lining of his lungs have burn marks upon them, that is highly unusual. 

It’s not what you’d expect during a fire, finding ash and fume particles in the lungs is what we usually come across in a smoke inhalation victim.

We came to the conclusion that the marks on his lungs weren’t caused by fire of any sort, but by electrocution. Also, more pressing is that your brother’s skin is marred with scars and old wounds unlike any of which we’ve ever seen before, it’s as if they're something otherworldly in nature.  

Then there’s these marks around his ankles, wrists and neck, they are also burn marks appeared to be caused by electrocution. Would you have any information on how any of these old wounds came to be?

I know that this has been a traumatic experience for all of you, but any information about your brother will help us. 

There is one last thing I need to inform you of, Stanford’s lungs are so damaged that we are going to have to perform surgery on them, however even if the surgery is successful, we may have to consider a full-on lung transplant in the future.

Right now, we cannot promise anything for certain, and at the moment his survival rate is unfortunately slim, but we shall do all we can to help him. Be that as it may you might want to start preparing your goodbyes to him just in case.”

 

 

Dipper flinched away at the words, curling in on himself, his hands desperately gripping the sleeves of his shirt. A few steps back, and he separated himself from the group for a few moments. His gaze turned away, and his mouth hung agape. His heart sped up with every word that was uttered. He didn't know what to think. He was just upset. In multiple ways. 

 

 

Stanley took it rather awfully. His hand immediately went to his mouth as he turned partially away, hoping he had misheard. This was FORD. He wouldn't be beaten by this stupid, stupid thing. There was no freaking way after 30 years in a death-portal, that he'd just give up now! Not only one year after being free from that awful place. There was no fucking way this was  **Stanford**  that they were talking about. His stubbornness fought against the looming fear and danger that he felt. His fallen heart was breaking, but he didn't want to notice it. 

 

 

His thoughts kept taking in these words of hers, hoping they were fake. But a certain line made him feel sick. That Stanford flatlined for five minutes, back when that... incident happened. When there was that strange happening. What a strange place and time for it, but he couldn't be sure if what he thought was real though. That was impossible, surely right? Besides, Stanford, like he thought, was stronger than this. There was no way 

 

 

Wendy, who was probably, and barely, the most composed of all of the group, closed off part of herself too. She slowed down, her body tight against herself, but gently released, looking down at the small figure who gripped at her hand. Well, this was gonna suck. "M-Mabel, umm, didn't you hear or see about... um... Dr. Pines's bandages? Did he happen to tell y-you, umm, anything?" Her voice was quiet, much like a whisper that could be barely heard by anyone but Mabel. If there was one thing she didn't want to do, that would put pressure and fear onto the young girl more than she already had. Otherwise, there was no explanations they could give. 

 

 

Mabel’s entire body became as frigid as ice and as hollow as a void of darkness. She went numb all over and she couldn’t feel anything but overwhelming terror as she listened to the Nurse’s words. Her eyes stared into the ugly carpet as if it held the solace to their woes. She didn’t appear to be listening in any sort of capacity, and it took her almost a minute to respond to Wendy, and when she did, her words were bursting with a fiery anger that no one had ever heard from her. 

 

 

“Grunkle Ford said not to say anything about those marks on him, he told me I wasn’t supposed to see those electrocution marks... he wouldn’t tell me how they… but… it was… that… that evil isosceles monster!” She tore her hand out of Wendy’s and hugged herself tightly, burning tears streamed down her face that was twisted up in a scowl that was unbecoming of her. “Bill... must have... done that to Gru-Grunkle Ford. Bill must have electrocuted him! This… this is all Bill’s fault! Even after he’s gone, he’s still causing us problems!”

 

 

She turned away from them all and stomped over to a corner and settled herself into a sit, facing away from them. Her anger fizzled out as it broke away and morphed into pained whimpers. She rocked herself back and forth, the realization of what Bill had done to her Grunkle last summer, and the fact that he was near death because of it now, was all too much for her to bear. 

 

 

Soos was too shocked to move or say anything, he just stood there, his hands pressed together. He looked like a large lost St Bernard puppy, his gaze drifted away from the nurse and down to the floor. He was too caught up in his own surprise that he was unable to offer any comfort to anyone around him. Besides who would he even begin to comfort? 

 

  

The nurse didn’t speak, only listened to Mabel’s tirade of anguish. She wasn’t shocked in the least, she had been there last Summer during Weirdmageddon. Everyone in Gravity Falls knew of Bill Cipher and the Pines family’s involvement in taking him down. They were well aware Stan Pines had been the one to save Gravity Falls. Though the town no longer spoke of what happened due to the Never Mind All That act. After Mabel was done the Nurse’s voice filled the room once again. “I offer my deepest condolences for what you’re all going through. I heard from some other nurses that the Mystery Shack was destroyed by the fire. If you’ve nowhere to stay, you can stay in one of our private patient wings. The wings function just like a one-story home. You can stay there for the time being, while you wait for us to finish working over Stanford. We’ll do everything in our power to save him, I promise.” 

 

 

Wendy was honestly a bit scared of Mabel's fury. Her mouth stayed open for a moment, shaking for a bit. She couldn't manage any words, and just didn't know what to do. 

 

 

Dipper was the first to move, breaking out of his fear and rushing over to his sister. He barely touched her on the shoulder, trying to get her attention. He was extremely afraid of what she'd do, if she'd push him away or let him closer. Dipper closed his eyes, his heart rate speeding up as he stood there, nervously. 

 

 

Wendy looked back from the scene to the nurse. "Y-Yes, w-we'll take the extra room. T-Thank you." She tried to stay as calm as she could talking to the nurse. 

 

 

Stanley was lost in thought, although jumped to reality the moment Mabel blurted out in alarm. Those words unnerved Stan. He felt nervous and alarmed, before letting those words sink in. Then, he just got mad.  _Damn it, of freaking course-_   

 

 

That awful move of that fucking dream demon himself last year must have done it. If he could destroy him again, Stan would make it awfully painful. If this was how he was losing his brother, he was so damn mad. Of all things that demon decided to electrocute his own twin! Ford, who'd get excited at littlest of success, the brother, who'd admire his great nephew and niece, the twin, who'd be excited over playing just one game of dungeons, dungeons, & dungeons. Stan nearly cussed out in anger when a shot hit him right through the heart.  _Why didn’t Ford tell me about this-?_   

 

 

Stan's voice got caught upon hearing this in his mind. Was it because Ford still had distaste for Stan, was it?...  _Was it?..._  No... No, it had to be another reason. Ford still couldn’t be holding yet another grudge against him? Not after all the progress they’d made in repairing their broken brotherly bonds. Not after they’d set sail on their Adventure of a lifetime? Not after Ford had shown him nothing but brotherly love and fondness since they’d reconciled, right? "Miss, can we... can we see him at some point?" 

 

 

“Of course,” The Nurse replied, giving them a halfhearted smile, “you can see him as soon as he’s out of surgery.” She began to turn away but then stopped, “Oh! Before I forget, we found this in Stanford’s pocket!” She reached in and pulled out a recording device of some type and handed it off to Stan. “We took a listen to it, but stopped when we realized that the words were meant for the ears of the Pines Family alone. It seems Stanford left all of you a message on it, the recording is dated before you arrived at the Hospital. I assume that he must have done it while the fire was going on. I’ll lead you to where you’ll be staying, and then you can have a listen to it.” 

 

 

Mabel fell back and into Dipper's waiting arms. She huddled against him and hugged him tightly, gripping onto him as if he was a life preserver that had been cast out to her as if she was in danger of drowning. “I-I wish Bill was here r-right now, so I could spray him in his stupid eye with spray paint again, over and over.” She sniffled, taking in a shaky breath, and releasing it in the form of a sigh. “And then you could sh-shrink him with the shrink ray, so he can be used as decorative part of one of our mini golf courses. His eye being the h-hole in one.” Whatever fury that Mabel had been holding onto appears to have escaped, leaving her with just bitter sadness. 

 

 

Soos shuffled over to Dipper and Mabel, he knelt down and placed his hands on their shoulders. “Come on lil’ dudes, it’s time to go to the private wing, I’m certain we will all probably feel more relaxed when we get settled down for the night. Besides it’s almost morning and I’m sure that you’re tired.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well then! That experience with Filbrick was quite haunting! I'm getting CHILLS just by rereading it! Sorry these are very DEAD puns aren't they? I guess I need to LIVEN them up a little by RAISING the dead! 
> 
> OOOHHHHH! Well I guess that's my cue to disappear! Remember you're all boo-tiful! I'll be seeing you next time! It's time for me to depart! Oh gosh, I'm gonna end up choking myself up with these puns, I'm gonna be coffin all the way to my grave! Hahahahah! Time to ghost!
> 
>  
> 
> Hasta la vista BABY!
> 
>  
> 
> {{Next time: The Pines family listens to the recorder. Let's see what it has in store for them. Now we know why Ford's lungs are in poor condition. They were damaged by Bill and never healed properly. Everyone's always going the plate in Ford's head is causing him issues route. So I wanted to go another route and have his LUNGS be the problem. His old wounds on his lungs were agitated again by the smoke and ash of the fire in the Shack. Now he's paying heavily for it.}}


	4. From The Perfect Start To The Finish Line, And If You're Still Breathing, You're The Lucky Ones; 'Cause Most Of Us Are Heaving Through Corrupted Lungs, Setting Fire To Our Insides For Fun, I'm Forever Missing Him.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Where there's life there's hope.  
> Let's hope that they can all cope.  
> Time to face the storm together.  
> Here's to pining for forever.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OH SHIT! IT'S CHAPTER 4 ALREADY?! YUP! YOU SEEING THIS RIGHT! IT'S CHAPTER 4 BABY! I decided to just give you another treat. Chapter 5 is gonna be coming soon too! Once again Ivy and I hope you enjoy it! 
> 
> Feel free to do whatever you wish! Kudos, bookmark, or even comment! Feedback is always welcomed here with open arms!
> 
> Title of this song are lyrics taken from: Youth By Daughter.

* * *

 

* * *

 

* * *

The group had finally managed to get moving, as the ground felt like it was going to take each of them under. Eventually the nurse made it to a solemnly grayish door, which inside had a bunk bed in the back, as well as some recliner chairs and two beds. The walls were decorated with some paintings and picture frames. There was an old tv in front of the main bed, as well as the room smelling decidedly too clean. It had a more than average amount of cleaning chemicals in the room, that it almost gave off a burning sensation to the eyes. There was a bathroom to the right, and a small fridge was also in the main room.  

 

 

It was basic, and not too bad thinking about it. It had enough to take care of five people, maybe six, but it seemed iffy. Their steps tread on the greenish-turquoise carpet beneath them. The nurse soon left, and the five of them got comfortable. Stanley, who was the one the nurse decided to hand the recorder to, was looking it over in a tense, hesitant manner. Looking at it, it was definitely Ford's. It was a bit better than your average recorder, and a mix between a microphone and a walkie-talkie. There were some advancements, like an incredible antenna, and some dials on the side that looked like it was alien made. Must have been bought and probably upgraded while Ford was in the other dimensions.  

 

 

There was also evidence that this specific recorder was shown to Mabel, probably a few weeks ago. There was a small, tightly stuck on sticker of the typical alien. But when questioned by Stan, Mabel said she had never seen that before. 

 

 

 _Stanford, was truly the nerdiest nerd._   

 

 

Looking at what it had, there was only one entry, which he doubted was the only thing that this was used for, but Ford must've cleared it for this reason. Thinking that this entry was made during the fire, Stanley already become on edge looking at it. But maybe, the recording had like the directions to some life-saving machine, or something, and he planned it all. 

 

 

 **_That's what he hoped, no matter how childish it was._ ** 

 

 

Stanley got it ready, after a bit of tweaking, and called over everyone, tuning the sound a bit more, then, finally, pressing play. The small recorder glitched and had a garbled static sound for a few seconds, before it then began to play back the message. 

* * *

 

* * *

 _"I hope this blasted thing is w-working... come on... work, you useless device.” There was garbled static and some shuffling sounds and several thumps, as if the recorder had been smacked against something frantically, before it became clear again. “Ah, it’s working, excellent...! Now uhm...well I never imagined that I’d be uh recording a message such as this.... but...” Coughs forced a pause in the recording, there was no doubt that Ford had recorded this during the fire._  

 

 

 _“I f-fear that these may b-be my last words and I hope t-that this recorder will survive the fi-” More coughs followed by uneasy breaths, “f-fire so that my f-family can hear my final message.” There was silence for a solid minute, the only sound being crackles from flames. Then Ford’s voice came back through the speaker again, “Stanley my twin and my best friend, Dipper my boy, and Mabel sweetheart....”_  

 

 

 _His voice faded for only a fleeting moment before it returned, “No that’s... that’s far too sappy of a goodbye, if this wasn’t such a dire situation, I can almost hear Stanley_ _laughing at me for that opener of a goodbye message....” There was a humorless chuckle and a feeble sigh. What a damn nerd Ford was, even in the face of certain death, he was still being a huge dork in the recording, though it wasn’t like they expected any less of him._  

 

 

_“I uh, I suppose I should just get to the point, it’s what I know you’d do Stanley so.... A-At any r-rate I just wanted to say some things I should have said to all of you, a long time ago and I hope you won’t think any less of me._

**_I, Stanford Pines, am a killer_** _, bu-but I assure you, it wasn’t by choice._

 _I was forced to take the lives of many beings and creatures to ensure my own survival, they were all in self-defense._  

_I don’t know why I’m only brave enough t-to admit this now, or perhaps I’m just being a coward, but the guilt of what I’ve done has been eating away at me for far too long._

_T-This is why I a-avoid speaking of my time in the M-Multiverse. I w-wasn't certain how you’d r-react... I guess a part of me deep down feared you would turn your backs_ _upon me. Perhaps the fear is justified and you would, or perhaps I am worrying over nothing.”_  

 

 

 _Silence again, more crackles of flames, raspy breaths, and static. It was like that for nearly thirty seconds before Ford’s voice sounded off again._  

 

 

 _“I... I’m not su-sure how to give you all a proper goodbye, I’m not... well versed in speaking with others. So, uh right, right, I just... I guess what I’m trying to tell you is thank you. Thank you for saving me from myself and thank you for giving me a chance to be a part of your lives. I know that I’ve caused much misfortune to all of you, especially you Stanley, I... wasn’t the brother you deserved._  

_I left you alone for ten years and then selfishly I only called you up to ask you to fix a mistake that I should have burdened on my own._

_Y_ _ou- you shouldn’t have had to deal with me, not after I turned my back on you when you needed me the most. What right did I have to ask you for your help when I failed you, when I let Pa toss you out,_ _basically to die._

 _You could have died upon the streets, and I just let it happen, I didn’t even try to fight for you. I should have realized it was an accident, I should have known you wouldn’t have tried to sabotage my project on purpose.”_  

 

 

 _There was another glitch in the recording, and the speakers sputtered for a moment, static buzzed and then there was another session of thumps, and it sounded as if Ford had said a string of choice words into the recorder. Yet the words were all too garbled to make out. When the recorder recovered from its glitch out, there was the unmistakable sounds of hoarse coughing and discordant uneven breaths._  

 

 

_“Th-then you spent so long trying to bring me home and I repaid you with an unjustified punch to your face. Heh, some brother I turned out to be...... Stanley, I hope you know that I don’t have anything left that I hold against you._

_I never had any reason to treat you as I did._

_You’ve always been there for me, all you ever did was love and support me, and I took it all for granted._  

_I know I’ve apologized possibly thousands of times over for it all, but I am sincerely sorry._

_I love you, you Knucklehead, and if I..if I am to die here and now, I just wanted you to know that I’m the one that stole your pie a few nights ago, the one you blamed Waddles for eating.”_  

 

 

_Another laugh and some more coughs, this time there was some humor in it. What a dork, trying to make light of his grim situation, trying to make them laugh even in the bleakness of it all._

 

 

 _"Actually... I w-wanted to say.... that you’re an amazing brother Stanley, and I’m lucky I had you, otherwise I probably would have wound up all alone. Thank you, Stan, thank you for everything you have done for me, even though I did nothing to deserve it. You truly are a person that everyone should strive to be like.”_  

 

 

 _His voice was full of pride and sorrow all at once, and it began to waver with sentiment. “T-There’s so much I wish to sa-say but time is limited. It’s bec-becoming difficult to breathe... I just wanted you to know I love you little brother, never f-forget that.... and.."_  

 

 

 _There was yet another stretch of time where Ford did not speak, instead they could hear the struggles of his lungs as another bout of choked up breaths seized his voice, keeping him from forming any words. It took a minute for the explosive hacks to settle down so that his voice could recover just enough to impart more words._  

 

 

_“And Dipper and Mabel... you’re the greatest nephew and niece I coul-could have hoped for. I am so lucky that I g-got to be your great uncle._

_I’m not certain what I ever did to deserve you two, or how you ever forgave me for my role in causing Weirdmageddon. I also don’t understand how you don’t hold it against me for trying to come between your sibling bonds last summer._  

_I realize that what I did to the both of you wasn’t right, I had no business in trying to convince Dipper to stay as my apprentice._

_I know you’ve forgiven me but I am sorry for hurting the both of you.”_

 

 

 _Ford’s voice had trailed off once again, and all that could be heard was his frail breaths. When he spoke again, his voice was resigned and chillingly peaceful. “I love the both of you very much, and I hope that you will become everything you’ve ever dreamed of being---” His breaths hitched at that point, and his next words were gripped with agony._  

 

 

_“T-The smoke’s g-gotten t-thicker... I... I doubt I h-have muc-much br-breathable air left... so... kids... Stan I...I have my suspicions that th-this fire was set in- intentionally._

_I can sm-smell a concen-concentration of g-gasoline in th-the air. T-The fire wasn’t an a-accident... s-someone planned this._

_H-However... I b-beg of you, especially you Stanley, p-please don’t seek o-out whoever did this._  

_Please.... I do-don't want the th-three of you g-getting hurt t-trying to bring w-whoever did this to j-justice._

_A-Allow the a-authorities to h-handle it, p-please don’t put yourself in harm’s way for me.”_  

 

 

 _The heartbreaking sound of a feeble whimper followed after his words, it was a no brainer that Ford must have let the floodgates open, it wasn’t shocking he must have been holding it back ever since he began the recording. The final closing words he left were unnerving and un-Ford like._  

 

 

 _He didn’t sound like himself at the end, instead he sounded like a broken soul, a broken soul that believed he was unworthy, that he didn’t matter, that he was nothing._  

 

 

 _And Stan knew all about that feeling, it was something he had lived with for many decades, and was still struggling with today._  

 

 

 _Hearing Ford like this, only brought forth the macabre questions of:_   _How long had Stanford felt like this? How long has he suffered in silence with these thoughts? How did he come to think of himself so lowly? Why hadn’t he said anything? Why did he keep it all inside of him? Why did he decide to bear it all alone? Why? Why? Why? And how didn't they ever see it? How had he concealed it so long?_  

 

 

_“N-None of you s-should s-suffer anym-anymore on my b-behalf. P-Please l-live on, d-don't throw yo-your lives away because of me. J-Just l-live on.... please.... and... t-try to... to forget about m-me._

_I-It's f-for the b-best... I h-hurt all of you and... and none of you deserved it. I’ve done horrible things, things that I can ne-never atone for._

_I caused F-Fiddleford's de-descent into madness.... because I was too s-stubborn and too prideful._  

_I... I ruined your l-life Stan, acted as though you didn’t exist for ten years, I... I branded you fo-for moses sake... and erased your mind!_

_I t-tried to separate the kids...._ _and worst of all I n-nearly caused t-the end of our Universe! S-So.... if you d-do a-anything... anything at all-_  

_Please don’t seek out who caused this fire, perhaps it was retribution, perhaps this is my pu-punishment for everything I’ve done... I wouldn’t b-be shocked if in d-death I learn that it is. It’s no less than what I deserve. Please.... don’t cry for me......”_

 

 

 _The recording was coming to an end, and the very last words spoken only confirmed just how much anguish Ford had really been suffering, and just how much he loathed himself._  

 

 

 **_“I’m not worth it...”_ ** 

* * *

 

* * *

 

 The recorder clicked with a resounding grim note. It lasted for five, maybe six seconds before going deathly silent.  

 

 

The recorder was held in a death grip ever since its first words. Towards the end of the recording, Stan felt his voice act without reason, beginning to cry. His voice struggled out weakly against the static. "S-Stanford..."  Crap, even at the very end, his voice rose, like Stanford could still hear him. "P-Poindexter, wait,  _no, no no...._   **D-Don't s-stop t-talking! Ya nerd, don't st-top- don't leave me-** "  **click.**   

 

 

 **"alone..."**   

 

 

His voice dried out as sobs collectively took over his broken throat. His hands shook as he heavily lifted the quiet recorder to his chest, his tears landing on the unfortunate piece of plastic and metal. Taking the recorder in one hand, he put his head in his other hand, letting the tears clearly fall down his cheeks. In the back of his mind, he finally understood what that incident during that confrontation with his father was. His mind and heart struggled to believe it, but now, they were finally shoved into the ice-cold water that was what happened.  

 

 

 _T-That was you... wasn't it Ford..._? 

 

 

His body shuddered almost painfully, as he crumpled slightly in on himself. He didn't even notice what was happening around him. This all just  **hurt**  so, so damn much. He never thought something could hurt him as much as this did. His heart emotionally, and probably physically, shattered as his hopes plummeted to the bottom of his being. His stomach was filled with uneasy butterflies, and the waterworks never seemed to stop. If he kept crying, he swore he'd drown himself.  

 

 

 **This...**  

 **He never wanted this to happen.**  

 **Especially not to Stanford.**  

 

 

Dipper's eyes couldn't help but let tears fall down quickly. This hopeless feeling drained into him like venom. It reminded him very painfully of last summer. "G-Grunkle F-Ford... N-N-Noo-ooo..." Dipper just squirmed under the stares of the universe, feeling like his heart just plummeted down to the center of the universe. He got up, rushing into the bathroom, and locked the door, closing it heavily. He quickly began to hyperventilate, his sobs clogging his throat in frustration. His body was curled up as tight as he could be.  

 

 

**_He just wanted to be alone, or so he thought._   **

 

 

Wendy's face grew more and more shocked and uncomfortable as the recording continued. She didn't say anything.  _No, there was nothing she could say._  She got up slightly, before watching Dipper run off into the bathroom, locking the door behind him. "D-Dipper, wait-" Her strides were put to a stop as he didn't reply. She just slowly put her hand down, frowning at the door. Her heart felt awful and she couldn't help feel awful for the entirety of the family. She didn't know what to think. 

 

 

A shrieking wail burst out of Mabel as her hands grasped her hair, she was shaking as if the whole world was caught up in a magnitude ten earthquake. Never had there ever been a record of such an earthquake, yet if there ever was one, Mabel’s trembles would be the very origin of said earthquake. Her trembles shook the bed she was on, her tear-filled gaze settled on the recorder, the recorder she wanted to take and smash apart. She desired nothing more than to shatter it, shatter it just as much as her soul and her heart were, to make them match. Surely if she could shatter the device, it would allow her broken pieces to pick themselves up and mend, to fuse back in place, and for two get well stickers to be placed on both of their fractured surfaces. 

 

 

The Shooting Star within Mabel was flickering, dying out, and she was powerless to keep it from fading. The red string of fate that tethered her to sanity snapped and she collapsed face down into the blankets on the bed, her shrill sobs only being subdued due to the thickness of the fabric. She wanted her Grunkle Ford... 

 

 

She wanted him to hug her tightly, and tell her everything would be alright.  But he couldn’t do that... and he might never be able to again. And it was killing her... it was killing her. 

 

 

 **It was killing them all.**  

 

 

Soos’s frantic stare landed on Wendy, he didn’t know what to do, he didn’t know what to do! He looked as if he was going to faint then and there. His gaze flickered to and fro, to Stan, to Mabel, to Wendy and then to the bathroom. He was torn in three different directions, he didn’t know if he should go to Stan, to Mabel or to Dipper... though it wasn’t as if he could get to Dipper, seeing as how he’d locked himself in the bathroom, but that was beside the point! His heart pounded within his rib-cage and his pulse quickened, and his face began to turn a cherry red, as tears soon leaked out of his eyes. He reached up and pulled his nightcap down over his face, and covered his eyes, his head now craned downwards at the floor. 

 

 

Frantic sobs could be heard loudly from the bathroom. Dipper was struggling through his sobs to breathe, his body curled up and rocking back and forth. The cold tile chilled his body as he crumbled slowly more and more into himself. He could vaguely hear talking on the other side of the door, but it soon blurred out and he couldn't hear anything. Just his breaths, and his sobs, and a distinct ringing in his ears. His mind was in shambles, and his sobbing only got louder from the voice that tried to make its way through the door. 

 

 

"D-Dipper, open up!" Wendy was shaking the handle, too afraid of scaring Dipper. "Dipper, please-!" Another attempt, another attempt.  _Nothing._  She began to knock on the door, before his sobbing became unbearable and Wendy moved away from the door and towards the opposite wall. She hardly stopped herself from frustratingly slamming her fists against the wall. 

 

 

Stan was nothing but silence now, save for small sobs. His tears kept rolling, his brown eyes stared at the recorder, hands feebly shaking it, before holding it tightly to his chest as his eyes remain as wide as they could possibly be. The heart-wrenching words that Ford told him through the recorder haunted him. Like everything, all of his feelings came crashing through like a train. He stared blankly at the recorder. 

  

 

_'I’ve caused much misfortune to all of you, especially you Stanley, I... wasn’t the brother you deserved. I left you alone for ten years and then selfishly I only called you up to ask you to fix a mistake that I should have burdened on my own.'_

 

 

Those words...  

 

 

He never knew he could feel so much  _pain_  by a choice of words.  

 

 

 _'I hope you know that I don’t have anything left that I hold against you. I never had any reason to treat you as I did._   **It hurt.**   _Actually... I w-wanted to say.... that you’re an amazing brother Stanley, and I’m lucky I had you...'_  

 

 

 **It hurt so damn much.**   

 

 

 _'I_   **love**   _you, you Knucklehead...'_   

 

 

Stan never thought he'd ever hear those words again after Ford was rolled out of the ambulance and into the Hospital. Stanley never thought Stanford would be dying. Stanley never really did think things out. It should've been him. He knew this. Ford had was paying the price for Stan's failure again. And it  ** _infuriated_**   him, so much. He should be dying, it should be his life that was ending, not his twin brother’s life.

 

 

The portal, everything...  

 

 

This wasn't Ford's fault. It was Stan’s. And here they both were. Stanley was just tired.  

 

 

**So.... tired... so damn tired.**

* * *

 

* * *

 

Five hours, five long and agonizing hours, sluggishly passed them by. Lung surgery was a difficult and precarious procedure that had to be handled with the upmost care, for the sake of the patient’s life hanging on the precipice of life and death. The atmosphere in the room was heavy with gloom and rife with devastation, no one was a happy camper in the Pines family. 

 

 

Mabel had sobbed herself to sleep, and she was in a deep and heavy sleep, it would seem that nothing would ever be able to wake her again. It was as if she had died, it was honestly creepy, seeing her so still, save for the falling and the rising of her shoulders. She hadn’t even bothered to curl up under the blankets, instead she opted to stay where she’d collapsed, she didn't even take use of the pillow provided on the bed. Instead her face was sunken into the thick blanket, her hair was sprawled out all over, tangled and frizzy, standing on ends from her break down. The girl had taken her hands, and furiously combed it through her hair until it poofed up like clouds. 

 

 

Looking at her now, it was hard to tell she even had a breakdown, she seemed to sleep peacefully... thankfully. 

 

 

Soos had long since fallen to sleep as well. He was settled in one of the recliners, leaned back, snoring like a bear in hibernation. Mumbling to himself every once in a while, about food or video games, and so on and so forth.His hands were lying limply off the sides of the recliner, his handheld lying discarded on the carpet to his right. The handheld was playing a little hushed soundtrack that seemed to be made from flute, piano and harp noises. Though it wouldn’t last long, if the red blinking light of the system was any indicator, the batteries must be dying. 

 

 

It was unknown to the only soul still awake in the main room, Stan, if Dipper was still awake. He still had yet to leave the bathroom, and they weren’t certain if he’d ended up crying himself to sleep like Mabel. 

 

 

Dipper however, was most definitely asleep in the bathroom if they could see him, although in a rather uncomfortable position. His body was laying on the cold tile, shivering a bit as his tear tracks still remained on his face, he was flailed out, although curled slightly because of the cold. Tears were the only thing that fell for the hours he was awake. In his sleep, he was anything but peaceful. Luckily, no one knew what was happening in the bathroom, despite the distinct lack of sobs. 

 

 

There was a faint knock on the on the main entrance of the private patient wing they were in. It must be a doctor, or even a nurse, probably with word on how Stanford’s surgery had gone. Stan briefly looked up, his eyes tired and red. His voice had no power left, drained of all will-power. He wanted to go to the door, but most of him felt like it would just be bad news. His head lolled to the side, towards Wendy, who was looking towards the door as well, despite facing the other direction. 

 

 

He frowned slightly, his eyes returning to the small recorder in his hands, his fingers instinctively scratching into it by this point, but he didn't want to release it. He just gripped it tighter took one last glanced towards the door, before dipping his head to face the recorder again, his interest with the door beginning to fade already.  

 

 

Wendy, however, stumbled up from the edge of the bed that she was on. She was asleep, she thought, but something woke her up. Her hazy mind originally wanted to go back to bed, but she didn't feel tired. No one else in the room stirred, not even Stan, but she could definitely tell he was still awake. Of all people, Stan hasn’t seemed to have slept the entire time they've been here. Wendy hesitantly crept upwards and towards the entrance with what felt like weight in her heels. Each step felt almost painful with the anticipation. The handle creaked slightly as the bright light blinded her through the door as she opened in. 

 

 

The same nurse that had called them in the waiting room before, was now standing before Wendy. “Excuse me, Wendy, is it? May I come in and speak with Stanley Pines, I’ve got the latest update on his brother’s condition.” She grasped the clipboard underneath her right arm and waited for Wendy’s response. From what Wendy could tell, the expression the nurse had upon her face now, was vastly different than the one she had a few hours ago.   
 

 

Curiously she seemed have some more energy to her, her eyes were no longer glittering orbs of uncertainty, in fact they seemed convicted and somewhat... hopeful? The heaviness in the atmosphere seemed to fade ever so slightly, as the nurse’s rather chipper aura invaded it. This wasn’t how someone would be carrying themselves if they had grim news to deliver, so whatever news she brought, it must be news that could give them some solace and some hope. 

 

 

Wendy nervously bit her lip. Turning back to the old man, he seemed broken. She wondered if he could even talk right now, the poor guy. She turned her attention back to the nurse. "H-He's umm... right over there. N-Not sure if you'll be getting much from him. He's..." She thought over her words for a moment. "He's in a bad mind right now." That had to do. She moved over, holding the door open and vaguely raising her arm, pointing at Stanley, who hadn't even attempted to look up until this point.  

 

 

Stan glanced up dismally, this hopeless feeling emitting out of him quite obviously. He turned slightly, looking at the sleeping people in the room, then back at the two of them. 

 

 

The nurse dipped her head to Wendy, before she walked into Stan’s field of view, and stood a few feet before him giving him a soft and tired smile. 

 

 

“Hello Stanley, I’m here to inform you that you brother’s surgery went exceedingly well. There were no complications, before, during, or after the surgery.

Needless to say, we were all pleasantly surprised on how well it went. His lungs were grievously damaged, so we assumed that we’d be fighting an uphill battle to keep him stable, yet nothing out of the ordinary happened.  

We patched up his lungs to the best of our ability, and our head surgeon has re-estimated his survival rate.

Initially we calculated he had a five out of a hundred percent chance of pulling through, but miraculously and almost instantaneously his survival rate is now at twenty-five percent out of one hundred. Although it is low, it’s a step up from only five percent.”  

 

 

She paused for just a moment to allow what she was saying to reach Stan’s drowsy mind. She wondered how he’d take it, though it wasn’t the news they’d been hoping for, at least it was positive in some aspect.  

 

 

“I have to commend Stanford on his fortitude, I’d say there is a chance that he could very well pull through this now. However, we’ve done all that we can for him.

It will be up to Stanford himself to fight his way back, it might look rather hopeless but I have a feeling that things will work out.  

Also, if Stanford is able to pull through, our head surgeon has made it clear that he will have to come back to the Hospital sometime in the near future in order to receive a transplant.  

His lungs, although working for now, won’t last him long.

The surgeon has given us a rough timeline that Stanford’s lungs have only two to four years of functionality left in them. So, it will be imperative for him to be placed on the waiting list for a lung transplant as soon as possible.” 

 

 

Wendy listened to the news, she felt at least a bit relieved herself. Honestly, any news that wasn't bad is good by this point. She pondered on the nurse's ideas and thoughts, and with her optimism, there could be very well something left. She honestly was a bit glad, despite there being nothing left for the hospital to do. Finally, something good! 

 

 

 **Right?**  

 

 

Stanley's eyes shot straight at the nurse, listening to her words with his weakened, tired mind. His body still looked tired and weak, but inside, his heart began to beat quicker against his chest. His tear tracks felt lighter on his face now, as he slowly got up, walking over towards the two of them. Despite how his body portrayed his reaction, inside he felt so,  _so_  relieved. His body felt more relaxed, his shoulders slumped comfortably.  

 

 

 **_Thank god, for once I get some mercy-_ **  

 

 

He walks towards the nurse specifically, his small smile struggling to survive. Something that used to always be burning a long time ago started to flicker again. Thinking about it, he hadn't felt this again since his childhood mainly, where it burned like a wildfire. Now, while it's only a candle light, it felt amazing. Actually, the last time he felt this was when he saved his brother from the portal, moments before it went out because of a punch to the face and an argument. And then again for every moment he was on the boat with his brother. Although it wasn't very strong, it felt amazing.  

 

 

 _Looks like I knew my brother was stronger than he let on, he's fightin’..._   

 

 

 **He's not dead yet. That's probably the best he could hope for.**   

 

 

"Ma'am, do you know... when I can see him?" The recorder still hasn't left his chest, tightened against him by his hands. His voice didn't mistake how feeble he still felt even with the news. 

 

 

"Actually, you may see him right now if you like. In fact, I vouched for the idea that we should move him into this room, I thought that perhaps it would do Stanford good to be surrounded by his loved ones during this trying time.  

We will be coming back every now and then to check on his status, and to administer any medicine he might need, and to make sure he gets enough fluids and, well, you get the basic idea of it. My vouching seems to have won over our surgical team, and they've agreed that we can move his bed into the private patient wing.  

You'll be able to keep track on his progress, and we will provide you with a phone that has a button you can press, in case of a medical emergency. We will leave a team on standby, close to your wing, and they will respond in haste to deal with the issue."   
  

 

The nurse's smile grew, she could somehow sense that Stanley had more energy to him, despite the fact he was very much worn looking in his outward appearance. 

  
  

"Oh, there was something else I forgot to mention that happened after his surgery. It nearly knocked us off our feet, and we aren't certain if we actually heard what we all thought we heard, but we swear on the stars in the night sky that Stanford said your name. We aren't sure if that was our hope playing auditory tricks upon us all, or if he actually said it. But I do hope that will help you find some more peace of mind, Stanley." 

 

 

Wendy said nothing at this revelation, offering to stand back, smiling gently. She rubbed the heel of her shoe on her pants, sighing happily for a moment. She turns and goes to the window to give some privacy, turning to all of the sleeping people. There's got to be worse situations to be in. This at least, was not one anymore. 

 

 

Stanley couldn't help but have his grin grow larger, as he approached to see her in a better light. His voice grumbled, as it hurt to speak a bit, rough from all of his crying. "T-That... That would be n-nice. T-Thank you." His eyes couldn't cry anymore, but if they could, he'd be sobbing again. This time, for a different reason. He was awfully surprised over the apparent thing that happened after the surgery. He was shocked it was his name. Even after all of this time, he still thought it would be Dipper or something after everything. But no. It was apparently his name. 

 

 

 **_That's what confused him._ **  

 

 

"I-I'm... um... glad he said anythin'..." Stan was definitely happily pleased about it. If he could show it, he would, but his tiredness was getting to him. "Ma'am, I-I'm guessing you'll be moving him in the mornin'? If you aren' moving him now... could I see him?... " 

 

 

“Certainly, follow me Stanley, I’ll lead you to where he’s resting. I warn you that he still looks rather sickly, I am informing you this so that you will be prepared to see him in such a state. The last thing we wish is to have you become alarmed at his appearance.” The Nurse led the way out of the room, and walked down the hall, keeping pace with Stan. “You’ll be able to see some of those scars and old wounds I was speaking of on his arms. Though that’s about it, I’m glad we can spare you to the sight of it. Stanford should be the one showing you them, you shouldn’t be seeing them in such a manner as this. I judge by your reaction hours ago that you hadn’t the faintest idea of his scars.” 

 

They rounded the corner and moved down the corridor, until the nurse turned right, leading them down a hall of numbered doors, that probably held other patients in them. Finally, after ten minutes of going down corridors after corridors they arrived at the ICU. She opened the doors and brought him over to a section that was curtained off, she opened the curtains back just enough so they could slip through. 

 

 

Lying upon the bed, just as still as Stan remembered him being, was Ford. By the dimness of the light, Stan could tell Ford’s paleness hadn’t changed in hue, it hadn’t worsened, yet it hadn’t gotten better. But more eye catching was the several old lacerations around his arms, arms he often hid away under long sleeved sweaters. Even during summer, he could be found wearing a sweater of sorts, just like Mabel, though everyone always assumed that he was cold. 

 

 

There was always that one member in a family that was the ever-cold family member. It had been a tie for the longest time between Ford and Mabel, both of them always never seen without a sweater. Now Ford could be chalked up as to not being the cold member of the family, but to the family member that hid away scars because he was ashamed of them. Turns out Mabel truly was the always cold family member. Just another title for her to wear proudly. 

 

 

The last thing Stan took notice of was the medical wrappings around Ford’s neck and upper chest, probably put there after the surgery. The sounds of his brother’s beating heart were signified by the beeps of the monitor off to Ford’s left. And there was a chair waiting next to the bed right beside the heart monitor. 

 

 

“I figured you would want to come and see him, so I prepared a chair for you to sit on.” The nurse said in a hushed tone of voice.  

 

 

“I’ll leave for now, let you have some time with him. I’ll just be right beyond the curtain, sitting at the desk chair in the room, let me know if anything happens.” She backed up and then vanished through the curtains, leaving Stanley to be with his frail twin. 

 

 

Stanley gently walked over to the chair, sitting heavily into it. His weight on the chair, however being distributed in a cautiously quiet way, as if he didn't want to wake Ford, even though he'd doubt he'd wake. The recorder was gently placed onto the floor, as he turned to Stanford. 

 

 

 **God, he hated how sick he looked.**  

 

 

He relaxed slightly, watching the heart monitor, before being satisfied enough, to turn back to his twin. He wondered what Ford was dreaming of, if he was. Maybe it was some nerdy place that was heaven for him. Stan frowned, after the small smile from his ideas filtered through his head. He raised his hand, obviously cautious and afraid. His hand reached for his brother's right hand, and clenched it between his.Then, he opened his mouth to speak, despite knowing he couldn't hear him. 

 

 

"God, ya nerd, ya neva get enough sleep, and when ya finally go to sleep, I can't believe I'd be wantin’ ya to wake up." His laugh was genuine, although definitely hollow. "This is... a sick joke. Has tha'be." He listened to the beeps from Ford’s heart monitor, he strained his ears to more closely pick up on the beeps, anxiously as though it would change at any moment, and in Stan’s mind he fretted it would be for the worse. "Ford, ya have got to keep yourself outta trouble, ya know that. I can't keep... I can't keep getting freaked out over ya. You're my brother, the smart one, but ya need to stop being such an idiot at some point so ya... ya don't get hurt." 

 

 

A sniffle or two marked his pause. 

 

 

"For the kids, ya know?" Then shakily he added afterwards, "and maybe a bit for me." He hated seeing Stanford like this, he hated it with every fiber of his being.

 

 

"God, this room’s gotta be filled with dust- I can't even-" A few more sniffles passed as he tightened his grip, and used his other hand to wipe his eyes, which happened to start crying again. Odd, he had believed himself incapable of shedding any more tears, he had thought that his reservoir of the salty liquid had dried up, thought that he’d already cried all the tears he had left to give.  

 

 

Apparently and surprisingly, there seemed to be much more within him, and hadn’t the faintest idea on how his body had missed this stream of tears now trailing down his cheeks, one of his tears softly splattered against Ford’s cheek and Stan promptly rose his other hand and wiped the tear away. "A-Anyways, Ford... that was you, wasn' it? That saved us from Pa? That..." He sighed heavily. "-saved my ass again from Pa?" He wasn’t quite certain why Ford had even stood up to Pa, still after everything they’ve been through, there was always this part of Stan that would always manifest into ugly self-doubt and feelings of worthlessness. 

 

 

"I don' even... why did ya do it? I deserved it. I put ya in danger, I should be where you are right now not... not you. God, you're good, Poindexter. You're good. I'm just, ya know what I am. Ya aren't a bad guy, and... y-ya can't expect us not to cry either. You're family. You're my brother." He softly brushed his thumb over the top of Ford’s hand. "'m just glad ya didn't fall yet, I suppose. I...” He took a deep breath, and released it as a shaky sigh. 

 

 

 **"I love ya, ya nerd. Don't just leave us, okay? An' don' leave me. Please."**  

 

* * *

 

* * *

Ford was indeed having a dream, though Stan was quite off the mark when he tried to imagine what it might be. He wasn’t dreaming of something nerdy, perhaps maybe later, yes much later. At the current moment in time he was dreaming of the day he and Stan had discovered the Stan O’ War all those decades ago. The day they’d promised to sail away from their dumb town on their adventure of a life time, and in this dream, they had done so, his years of working on the Stan O’ War with Stan flew by rapidly within his Mindscape and finally the day came for Ford to present his project. 

 

 

Ford’s project had remained undisturbed but the college board for West Coast Tech hadn’t been impressed, they replied haughtily that they’d seen much more awe-inspiring feats of science than his little hunk of metal. Though, he didn’t find himself heartbroken in the least, after they’d left, Ford purposefully and utterly destroyed his own creation and took it home with him. And right before Stan, Ford had dumped his broken project into the garbage and proudly proclaimed that when they finished the Stan O’ War on Friday they’d set sail. 

 

 

It was such a lovely dream, it made him feel at ease about his rather dire predicament. Even though he was aware he was dreaming, and knew exactly where he was at the moment, it didn’t disturb the peace he felt that was created by his wistful imaginings. It felt right… and he yearned for his dream to be a reality, yet at the same time he rejected it. For even if his and Stan’s lives hadn’t gone to plan, they had been content with how it turned out to an extent.  

 

 

They’d finally gone sailing, they were finally a team again, and they had the most amazing little nephew and precious little niece to dote upon and spoil. Life couldn’t have been more perfect, until it had all fallen through the cracks of malevolence in less than a few short hours. Ford’s dream began to fade away and a voice called down to him from the beyond, of which he was forbidden to reach. He had tried several times in the last few hours to reach the beyond, and to escape from the inner workings of his own Mindscape.  

 

 

Yet, it always turned out to be a fruitless endeavor and he’d come to take a break now. Settling instead to let himself think of how life could have been so much sweeter, if only things had been different. The voice that drifted into, and across the riptide of, his Mindscape was gruff, yet at the same time it held a gentle tenderness of sorts. Ford recognized it as his twin’s without having to think twice about it. He’d know that voice from anywhere, he knew it like he knew the backs of his six fingered hands.  

 

 

Mindscape Ford was left standing in shallow crystal-clear waters that only came up to his ankles, his gaze cast upwards into the sky which was a mixture of daybreak and eventide. The darkness and the light mixed together and the middle was a breath-taking blend of purple, dark blue, orange and pink. All of these sights reflected off the water, and it was as if Ford was actually standing in the sky. 

* * *

 

* * *

He heard each and every word Stan spoke, and if his body that was lying on the medical bed had been physically capable of preforming such a demanding action, he would have taken Stan into a sincere and affectionate sibling hug. He might have also shed quite a few tears… okay that was a blatant lie, he would have shed a lot. Probably cry himself a whole ocean even, though Ford knew it was impossible to ever do so, it was still a valid sentiment for him to have nonetheless. 

 

 

Despite his body not being able to give the hug Ford wished to bestow upon Stan, Ford surmised he had enough energy to offer up the second-best action. It was a slight action, almost unnoticeable, but he’d managed to do it through stubborn concentration. So much for Stan's theory that Ford wasn't able to hear him. Ford’s hand slightly reacted to Stan’s touch right when Stan reaffirmed that he loved him, and when Stan asked him to stay and to not leave them. It was such a faint gesture, yet he’d managed to lightly curl his fingers over Stan’s. It was his way of nonverbal communication, it was his way of telling Stanley he was still here and that he was still with him and the kids.  

 

 

_**It was his way of saying: I won’t leave you alone, I promise, Ley.** _

__

 

Stan's voice had faded off at the end of his sentence, but what shocked him was the sudden feeling on his hand. His mouth emitted a small, surprised gasp, as his eyes trailed over to the hand that gently, and barely noticeably held his. He took up his other hand and also clutched it around Ford’s hand, both his hands now enveloping his twin’s hand. His face turned towards Ford's, as if he would just wake up, but the universe could only do so much, and Stan knew that.  

 

 

His smile definitely didn't leave his face though, as he held his brother's hand back. Honestly though, Stan had a sinking feeling that Ford just did it by instinct, that he didn't try, or still couldn't hear him. Another doubt told him that he couldn't even tell if anything was really going through. But that feeling on his hand made him at least want to try. It meant that he could actually be still here, and able to hear him. "Stanford, I wish... I wish ya were alright. It's been... it's been pretty hard since you uh, got hurt." Stan was stumbling through his words now. He was just broken, and he wanted to fix it.  

 

 

 **He wanted to fix it so bad.**  

 

 

"I'm not sure if you're really hearin' me, or if that was just some sort of instinct, but I... I'm gonna talk anyways, alrigh'?" He shuddered as he gripper tighter. A sigh left his lips. "A-an' ya don' need ta respond, if it's hard, to do that if it was ya."  

 

 

_Please… let me be wrong… let me be wrong that he can’t hear me. I want…no I need him to hear me. Just let Sixer be hearin' this…_

 

 

"Your, uh... sappy messages aside-" his gaze momentarily fell upon the recorder, pondering it before his gaze returned to Ford. "- the fact of ya being a killer an’ all. I mean, I was sort of surprised... I don't know what happened out there, but I've been through my own troubles here, and 'm not exactly the most innocent person either, but I've been in situations where I... I had to choose, and-" His voice cut short for a moment.  

 

 

"We've been through a lot. But for the record, I wasn' mad about it. Wasn' even frustrated at you for it. Wish ya... told me sooner though, and not here."   

 

 

He shook his head, the news that his brother had blood on his hands, even if it was in self-defense had been quite the shocking revelation and he was still having issues wrapping his head around it. It was a hard pill to swallow, his sweet and dorky brother, having killed before?

 

 

It was difficult for Stan to even picture it, let alone accept, but well it would be much easier for Stan to just place another weight of shame onto his shame shelf. He’d take the blame for this one too, Ford wouldn’t have had to do what he’d been forced to, if he hadn’t of pushed him into the portal to begin with. Ford wouldn’t have ever had to get blood on his hands, but he had, and Stan couldn’t rationalize it in any other way but it being his fault. 

 

 

"I do blame myself for that though. I blame myself for putting ya through that and all t'other hell ya made it through. If I-I didn' shove ya... Ya wouldn't have had to miss 30 years of your life. Y-ya... ya wouldn't have had to miss your own chances and stuff." A few more tears, but he couldn’t even be bothered to wipe his eyes, his tears falling discarded on the floor, and a bit ashamedly, some more on Stanford. 

 

 

"T-That's somethin' I need to apologize for. I... m’sorry that I broke your project. That's what started everythin', because of some stupid act I did. I'm really damn sorry for that. I wish I could fix it, I wish I could send ya to the world you wanted so much." A shudder of regret rushed through him like a chilly breeze on a rainy day.

 

 

"Maybe it'd been better. To just let ya go to the school back then." 

 

 

Sobs hitched through his throat as he stifled them.  

 

 

"A-And then there's the... There's the portal... I should've thought it through, I shouldn't have been... been so s-stubborn.

That's somethin' that hurts to think about, s-since ya had... ya had to kill things there and it wouldn't have happened, ya wouldn't be guilty or hurt if I didn't do it.  

I-I'm sorry. I'm so fucking sorry that I couldn't bring you back sooner, either.

I spent thirty years, trying to save you, and wasted your life, F-Ford. Ya didn' deserve t-that. I'm so d-damn sorry."  

 

 

His words were taking form of strangled whimpers, how in Moses was he still even crying? How many tears did he have left to shed? He didn’t know, but he knew that they probably wouldn’t stop until Ford woke up... 

 

 

 **If he woke up?-- No, when. When he woke up. He had to wake up. He would wake up.**  

 

 

And then everything that happened this ill-fated night, would become nothing more than a bad memory, of which they’d only think upon every so often with a bitter sorrow, that would leave a bad taste in their mouths whenever they recollected it. "I s-screwed up, e-everythin', didn' I? H-How did we even c-come to this-!" His voice cracked harshly as his sobs accelerated for a moment, before he relaxed slowly again.  

 

 

"T-There... There is something that I won' apologize for... and it's something that you'd might protest against. 

Ya know... that whole bringing ya back thing. With the... with the rift. Dangers and all of that crap.

Even if I knew all of the dangers, because I think...  

I might've only known a few, but still I would've fought to have gotten ya back no matter what warnings ya left.

Y-You're my twin, and the strive behind so many things... I-I can't apologize for my fight to get ya back. 

I couldn't have just left ya, I can only be sorry for how long it took."

 

 

Stanley's tears hurt his own skin, but he didn't give a damn, he kept his hands curled around Ford's hand, as his rant and apologies came to an end. 

* * *

 

* * *

The shallow water underneath Mindscape Ford began to rapidly drop in temperature as he listened to the heart-rending words that his little brother was leaving for him to hear. The tide began to recede hurriedly and it pulled the water back, far off shore, leaving Ford standing now only in the squishy sand beneath his...huh...sock covered feet.   

 

 

He hadn’t noticed that he’d been wearing his maroon fuzzy socks, however that wasn’t the most pressing matter at hand. The ever-astute author of the journals knew all too well what a swift receding of the tides meant. The seeking of higher grounds, alas, as Ford searched for higher ground, he was unable to locate any. It was just sand and ocean all around him as far as his eyes could perceive. As Stan’s words continued to reverberate through his vast and expansive Mindscape, the ocean waves swirled and began to swell to an alarming height. His chocolate orbs dilated, his gaze transfixed on the ever-building mass of waves, he took a few hesitant steps back before he conked the back of his head against something solid. 

 

 

He hastily turned on the ball of his heels, only to realize the Stan O’ War had materialized out of thin air. With no time to lose, he scrambled up and onto the boat. Just as the waves crashed turbulently against the side of the ship, causing it to skip several feet across the surface of the water, nearly capsizing it in the process. The waves caused a heavy misty spray of water to shower down upon Mindscape Ford and then he felt a tingle, all too familiar within his olfactory nerves and a soft expulsion of air, a sneeze, escaped him.  

* * *

 

* * *

Everything within his Mindscape was lost on Stan, he couldn’t possibly know what perilous waters Ford found himself in. The only hints that made themselves known to him, were the fact that Ford let out a low sigh, that sounded rather surprised in nature and then... his brother sneezed, just like a kitten, of all things.  

 

 

**Classic Poindexter.**

 

 

Stan stifled a laugh at the pitiful sneeze. He shook his head playfully, "God, ya nerd, sneeze anymore pitifully than that, and I'm gonna laugh my head off. Good t'know it's still ya." He lifted one hand from his hold on Ford, wiping his eyes slightly, as a tired smile was on his face. The vague beeping of the monitor ingrained itself into his thoughts after having listened to it for a while now. 

 

 

"Sorry, it has jus' been a while since ya decided to sneeze like a freaking kitten. I wonder if Dipper has found out yet, think I found where it came from-" His voice was still mocking as he laughed. The heart monitor kept him on his toes a bit though, as he clenched his hand on Ford's, for a moment. "I... Ya better be fine, okay? Need ta get some sleep, but you'll be m-moved to our room soon, I-I think." He peeked out of the curtains towards the nurse, she was in the middle of printing out some papers, probably some documents pertaining to her job, or some such. 

 

 

"I don' know if I can stay here all-night bro. Would if... if I could, ya know?" "Ya better not forget though. About how much t'kids love ya."  And unspoken, but understood, how much he loved him. He tightly grasped at his brother's hand, before yawning unceremoniously. Stan didn't really want to leave, he wanted to stay a bit longer, but even he knew he that he might not be able to. Hell, he'd stay here until he got better if he could, and he'd probably try just that. "I'll try ta stay a bit longer, but... no..." Another yawn plagued him. "promises..." 

* * *

 

* * *

The ocean around Mindscape Ford returned to a tranquil calm, and he settled down upon the deck of the Stan O’ War II and his orbs peered upwards again towards the beyond. He yearned to sprout wings like Icarus and fly up, up and through the barrier that kept him imprisoned within his own soul, body and mind. Ford could feel the air in his Mindscape warm up, and if his physical body wasn’t so snow white in hue, he knew his cheeks would be a striking cherry red. All due to the embarrassment that now loomed teasingly over him. He knew it was rather immature, yet if he could, at the moment- he'd be sticking his tongue out at Stan, and grace him with an indignant huff.  

 

 

It was something Mabel would probably do while she playfully pestered Dipper, it was amusing to say the least that Ford had adopted some of her mannerisms, she was a good influence on him, or was it the other way around? What if Mabel had inherited some of her quirks from Ford? Well, whichever way it was, it would probably stay an enigma. How would one even tell if Mabel had received her quirks from her Grunkle, or if it was her Grunkle mirroring her? 

 

 

At any rate, his actions would have all been in mutual harmless brotherly banter, Ford and Stan had found themselves doing that lately. They’d become more relaxed around each other over the year they'd been sailing, the tension that had lingered like a storm cloud, trailing behind them wherever they went, had all but ceased to be.  They were so close to finally mending the damage, unfortunately this horrific ordeal had caused old wounds and cracks to resurface- and it may just set them back possibly a few months. They would have a plethora of topics to touch upon after all this passed them by. 

 

 

While his cheeks couldn’t become red- and he couldn't stick his tongue out at Stan, he could do something else, probably. He wasn’t sure if he had it in him, but he was going to try nonetheless.  

* * *

 

* * *

His vocal cords shivered with his effort, and a subdued groan of mock frustration scarcely made its way to Stan’s eardrums. A sigh followed after, and Ford's head ever so slightly leaned towards Stan, his eyelids twitched, but they did not open. Was Stan just imagining it all, or was Ford actually subconsciously responding to what he was saying? 

 

 

Stanley huffed, holding back another yawn, favoring to look at his brother. 

 

 

 **God, Stanford even looked like he was annoyed.**  

 

 

Stan frowned for a moment, his eyes squinting through his broken glasses. He had to be imagining it. Right?  "Ya can't be actually hearing me, can ya? I mean... this could jus' be because ya are always so irritated at my pesterin' that it could jus' be somethin' in the back of your mind." Stan felt the candle of his hope weakening, before is sparked up- burning just a bit brighter. His other hand leaft Ford's and grasped Ford's glasses which he'd brought with him. His hand messed with Ford's pair of slightly cracked glasses that were attached to the collar of his tank top.  

 

 

"I... I hope ya can actually jus' hear me, sort of?... It's..." Stan laughed uncomfortably, as his eyelids felt heavier. "jus' kinda embarrassing to talk about. So maybe... maybe I hope ya can' hear me." His grip tightened, as he turned his face away. "Maybe..." He lifted the pair of glasses that had haunted him for thirty years. "Maybe I can deal with that." His head turned back to Ford's face. "If it meant ya came outta this fine, then... hell..." He shrugged to himself, smiling slightly.  

 

 

"I think ya told me once that you heard that people  _can_  hear people speakin' to them when they’re like this...  as they're talkin' to them." He didn’t know how much stock he was willing to put into that at the moment, but he wanted to do so. "Or maybe... maybe you can' hear,  an this is jus' some accidental ironic joke that this world is playin' on me. That ya aren't meanin' to do what ya are doin'?." Stan got frustrated with himself for a bit, the hand holding his brother's glasses decidedly clawed at his sorrowful face, with a small smile barely grazing it. His voice grew quiet, as he turned to Ford’s face.  

 

 

"I wish ya weren't asleep Six'. I wish ya were just awake and probably d-doin somethin’ reckless, knowin’ ya." A hollow sickening laughter erupted from him quietly. It was barely a shadow of his loud, admirable laugh. Sickening and self-deprecating, it almost felt like a sigh that had gone on too long. "I guess ya need your umm...  _cat nap_ , don'cha?" His voice once again mirrored his laughter and excitement from earlier for a few moments, making the vague joke towards him. 

 

 

Ford’s hand curled up more against Stan’s own, and a hushed mumble tumbled passed Ford’s parted lips. Though his mumble wasn’t anything that could even be correlated to words, yet bizarrely it was as if Ford was demanding that he be silent.  

 

 

_'Oh, shut up, will yeah, ya Knucklehead? You’re ruining my nap.'_

 

 

Those were the words that Ford would have probably said, if he had been able to convey them. Yet he was still deep in comatose and despite him giving off mild reactions to certain stimulation, like Stan’s hand clutched against his, Stan’s voice and his emotional aura, it did not seem he would be waking up soon. His movements had all been lethargic and sluggish at best, yet it was a blessing that he was even stirring at all. 

 

 

Hey, when you were Stanley Pines, you took what you got, and the Universe was taking mercy upon him for the first time in decades.   

 

 

To not take full advantage of this blessing would be a grave mistake. It was best to live in the moment now, and keep a slim hope that Ford did indeed hear him. Even if the raspy and negative shadowy voice in the depths of his mind was telling him otherwise, that he was conning himself into a false belief. 

 

 

"God... don' do somethin' stupid now, Poindexter..." Stanley shakily got up, his hand slowly released Ford's, as he approached the nurse quietly. With a small wave, he talks temporarily to her, a few yawns blocking some words.  

 

 

After a bit confirmation over the movement of Ford in the morning, the nurse led Stan back to the room, where now Wendy had fallen asleep on a recliner, tilted a bit too far back. With a few dismissing words, Stan closed the door, making his way to the final bed which was left for him.

 

 

Quietly, he grumbled as he got into bed, sleep surprisingly taking him not too long this time. He didn't forget the recorder, however, opting to finally take his eyes off it and placed it onto the nightstand. He drifted off easily, despite the nerve-wracking nightmare that attempted to get him that night. It wasn't awful, he's had worse, he was sure. But it didn't make it any better as hours went by. Everyone was asleep somehow.  

 

 

Even Dipper, whom still hadn't woken up from his place on the cold tile in the bathroom, which was about miraculous at this point. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I admit that I actually don't have any clever puns for this chapter. I'm just TEARING up with SORROW that I'm unable to find any puns to use because my eyes are so BLURRY from crying. UGH just... give me a minute. I'm just gonna cry myself a river and float away for a bit. See you next chapter ; __ ;
> 
> Looks like there's some hope yet for our good Ol Fordsy! Let's see if he pulls through~


	5. Come Morning Light You And I Will Be Safe And Sound; Hold Onto This Lullaby Even When The Musics Gone, Gone

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Come morning light, he should be safe and sound.  
> Yet there's something flickering just beyond it all, shadows are lurking all around.  
> Hell hath no fury like a Ghost scorned, the act of defiance left him rife.  
> Now it's time to inflict otherworldly strife.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter 5 is here everyone! Please leave a kudos, or bookmark, or even comment! Anything is good, but remember Ivy and I always look forward to seeing your thoughts!
> 
> The Chapter Title Is Lyrics Taken From: Safe and Sound By Taylor Swift.

* * *

* * *

 

* * *

 **Come morning light-**  

 

 

Right on the dot at around eight or nine, Mabel was the first to awaken. And what she saw nearly caused her to leap out of the bottom bunk of the bunk-bed, and fly across the room. Yet she had somehow managed to contain her surprise and stumbled off of the bottom bunk, clumsily almost twisting the same ankle she’d twisted during the fire. She was now peering down, while clasping her hands around a six fingered hand, into the pale face of her Grunkle Ford.  

 

 

 **He was relatively safe and sound, given the circumstances.**  

 

 

Mabel hadn’t been any the wiser that he was going to be moved to their private patient wing in the morning, so needless to say she was rather shocked. Her mouth hung open slightly as she wiggled the bottom of her jaw, trying in vain to close her mouth, yet it was an effort wasted. So instead she studied her Grunkle, and her eyes narrowed as she counted the almost countless scars upon his arms. She felt itchy just looking at them, wishing to know where every last one came from.  

 

 

Oh yeah, she and Grunkle Ford were gonna have  **LOOOOONG**  talk when he woke up.  

 

 

There would be no compromise. She had some choice words she wished to give to her Grunkle, before she showered him with her glee and mirth after he woke. Everyone else was still asleep, it was just Mabel who was up, or maybe Dipper might be up, but he was in the bathroom, unseen to his twin, so she didn’t know. Also, she wasn’t even certain she could handle another emotional face to face with her brother, not right now anyways.  

 

 

She was too drained herself, if she couldn’t keep herself chipper, then there wasn’t any way she’d be able to cheer up her brother. Mabel came to the conclusion that the medical staff must have moved Grunkle Ford into the room without disturbing anyone.  It would be a pleasant surprise for everyone, except for Stan and Wendy, who already knew that he was going to be relocated here. Yet Mabel couldn’t be blamed for her blissful ignorance when she had crashed before the announcement. 

* * *

 

* * *

Dipper, actually, was indeed awake. He laid groggy on the floor, his eyelids fluttering open. He was in a strange position, like he fell asleep and didn't really move. He struggled to get up with his face squished against the brown tile.  

 

 

After a bit more effort, his shaky arms found their way up the wall and steadied himself. His heart didn't feel any different from when his body was still awake, although this time his body felt cold and sore, and his emotions were just numb now. Mabel could hear footsteps coming from the bathroom, echoing on the dense tile. Dipper walked over to stand in front of the mirror, to see that his hat had been misplaced. Honestly, he couldn't remember if he brought it in here with him. His hair was also, an absolute mess, but he honestly didn't care.  

 

 

He patted it down with some water half-hazardly, and made his way to the door. Part of him wanted to leave, but as he tried, his breathing hitched again, like the numbness was beginning to fade, and his emotions came rushing back. Decidedly, he sat down against the door to try to get himself to maybe a bit better before entering the main room.  

 

 

 _Breathe in, Breathe out..._  

 

 

Something repetitive had to get his mind out of the gutter, right-? 

* * *

 

* * *

Mabel’s attention from her Grunkle was spirited away by the faint noises from within the bathroom. She could hear muted footsteps, the gushing sound of water being poured into the sink, and then hushed breaths. She was torn between staying next to her Grunkle, or going over to the bathroom to check upon her brother. Just because she wasn’t in the best state emotion didn’t mean she couldn’t offer some type of support to her twin, right?  

 

 

She knew she wouldn’t be able to cheer him up, but perhaps her silent support would help him regain some type of control over his own frayed sense of being. She pressed a ‘get better soon’ smooch to the top of her Grunkle Ford’s hand before she placed it carefully against his stomach, she stumbled towards the bathroom and then tapped on the door gently.  

 

 

“Dipdop....bro-bro? Uhm... did you know that the med guys and gals moved Grunkle Ford into our wing r-right? H-He's sleeping right now, I guess. But you can see him if you want to...h-he uh he’s still pale, but those dark circle thingies under his eyes have faded mostly, so that’s good... I think? Right?” She could hardly speak, her words clumsily leaving her vocals. Well this was going just swimmingly wasn’t it? 

 

 

**_Come on, Mabel girl, get yourself together!_  **

 

 

Dipper's sob hitched and paused for a moment. His ears trained on Mabel's voice, his body shuddering a bit. His whole body was just so cold. His tears fell more, before tried to get up, his breathing quickened. "M-Mabel... I-I'm s-scared..." His voice breathed out almost uncontrollable, thinking back to Ford. "W-What... what if..." His voice hitched again, his head leaning against the door, where his sister most likely remained. "I-I don't... want..." His body shuddered harshly before his hand found itself against the lock of the door. "Mabel... I'm n-not doing g-good right now. I-I... I shouldn't go y-yet... Don't want to c-cry all over him-" His heart kept tightening painfully. "I-Is h-he okay?..." 

 

 

Dipper's body fought against his rushing breath and heart rate, just wanting to wake up from this nightmare. He honestly couldn't believe that Ford was okay right now, much less in some hospital room being treated or something. He didn't want something bad to happen, he didn't want him to die, he was his great-uncle, and Dipper was just so scared. 

 

 

Mabel found herself adrift in a lost sea. Her words failing her as they shriveled up like wilting flowers. Speaking of flowers, her gaze landed on her current choice of wear.

 

 

**A shudder jostled her body as she realized that there was a huge daisy on it, of course there was a daisy.**

 

 

Fate just had to be that disgustingly dark humored, didn't it?  She leaned against the door, pressing her forehead against the wood, right in the exact same spot where Dipper's head pressed against on the other side. She propped her bandaged against the door, as if she'd just phase right through the wood like a spirit and emerge into the bathroom so she could bring her brother into a big comforting sibling hug.  

 

 

"I uh... I think he's okay right now. I'm not sure I... I don't know a lot about medical stuff bro-bro. But he seems to be sleeping okay, he hasn't made any noises except for the occasional mumbles and sighs. I think he might be dreaming haha.... probably about some nerd thing. Maybe he's doing trigonometry in his head, or something?" Her chuckles were dry and nearly devoid of all humor or joy, but there was a tiny sliver of hope underneath it all. 

 

 

Dipper sighs shakily, hearing the small thump from the other side of the door. His hand shaking near the lock of the door, uncomfortably. He looks back towards the floor for a moment, trying to swallow his sobs.  "Y-Yeah... that's something h-he'd probably do." Dipper let a few, quiet laughs through before his voice died down again.  

 

 

 **_He wanted to be next to Mabel._ **  

 

 

That was something he wanted right now. Why was he being such an idiot, the lock was right there, crap, his hand was on it right now. "He's p-probably having fun right now." Dipper's hand shook even more, before he decided to unlock the door. The lock was swiftly moved over into the unlocked position. Mabel could hear the click right through the door.  He sighed gently before his body shuddered once more. His hand deeply pressed on the handle, opening it slowly, the carpet beneath it muffling its sound and movement.  

 

 

 **Dipper looked** **awful** **.**  

 

 

Even for sleeping on the floor, he looked like he was thrown into a wind tunnel. His hair was still a mess, and the eye-bags under her twin's eyes were dark and unsightly. Tear-stains from the previous night were washed away this morning, despite the new tears just making new trails. His cheeks looked scarred because of it. The sight of her poor precious little bro-bro left a rose thorn painfully lodged deeply into her rainbow painted heart. Without hesitation Mabel reached out and pulled him into a comforting embrace, her left hand gently rubbing circles upon the middle of his back. 

 

 

“He’s going to be okay, you’ll see- he will. He won’t just leave us, not so soon! He’s gonna be here for a long time so…so we just gotta ch-chin up, and believe in him like we always do. He’s never let us down before, so I know he won’t let us down now. So, we can’t let ourselves down either… it’s li-like you said last night Dipper, we're the Mystery Twins- and nothing keeps us down.”  Her words although strained and unsteady, were inspiring and a faint whisper of hope latched upon them, and they carried the message of wishful thinking. She held her brother tightly, hoping to ground him back to reality and not let gravity carry him away from her.  

 

 

Right now, Dipper needed her and she had to try her absolute best to soothe his sorrows. What kind of an older twin sister would she be if she didn’t try to comfort her younger twin brother by five minutes? 

 

 

Dipper struggled briefly before he stiffened in her hold. His body shook with tremors just as badly as he experienced a few hours ago. Dipper fell forwards and into Mabel's hold. His sobs wracked his body gently. His hands gripped into her shoulders, as he shook weakly in her grip. His tears fell on her shoulder as he held her tight. He didn't like that he couldn't cheer himself up. But here he was, crying pitifully into her shoulder. Dipper frowned in her hold. He wished he could fix it, or at least do something not so messed up for once. 

 

 

The commotion of Mabel trying to calm Dipper had woken Soos from his slumber, he pushed himself off of his chair and froze as his gaze landed on Stanford who was resting on his bed. Soos’s sluggish mind churned like molasses being stirred with a rusty spoon as he tried to make sense of why Dr. Pines had been moved into the one-story wing with them. However, his wondering came to a crashing halt as he heard two distinct sets of crying, he turned himself towards the bathroom, to see Mabel standing before the door way, clutching Dipper.  

 

 

Struggling to keep him from succumbing to his own grief, but it looked like she was now falling to her own as well. Soos shook his drowsiness away and shuffled over to the two of them, knelt down and scooped them both up into his arms and he hugged them reassuringly. “There there dude and girl-dude let it all out.”  

 

 

The dam of Mabel’s floodgates burst open, and left thin streams of tears slipping down her cheeks. She cuddled against Dipper and buried her face against his shoulder, her trembling tied for intensity with Dipper’s trembles. It only now just struck her how agonizingly wretched it had been for her to see her Grunkle Ford lying, on what could still possibly be his death bed, after his surgery. He looked so fragile and frail, not to mention small and vulnerable. It was as if one light touch would turn him into dust. 

 

 

During all of this, their other Grunkle- Stan remained motionless where he slumbered, stuck in his own dream of sorts. Nightmare? Stan himself in the dream didn't know, much less could anyone tell, or notice as the three of them were together. 

 

 

Eventually, the group disbanded, as Dipper wiped his face, feeling a bit better. He grabbed his sister's sleeve, nodding at Soos, before heading towards Grunkle Ford. He felt his mouth curl into a small smile as he approached him. Outside, Dipper could hear doctors rushing around, patient to patient, but he didn't really care about it too much at the moment. "Grunkle Ford?" He didn't really expect an answer, but he was hopeful. He steadied his throat, before continuing his words. "I... I miss you Grunkle Ford. I'm... I'm so sorry, I could've done something and I was scared and-" He swallowed shakily, touching his shoulder. 

 

 

"You're so cool, and stuff. I've always looked up to y-you. I'm just umm... nervous that you won't wake up? I don't know-! I just think that you are so amazing as a Grunkle, and... and I hope you're alright." 

 

 

Mabel waited patiently for Dipper to finish talking with their Grunkle, while Dipper spoke, the headband wearing teen swore she saw a faint ghost of a smile upon their Grunkle Ford’s face. But then in a blink of her eyes, whatever flicker of movement she had seen was no longer visible and Ford’s face was back to a neutral expression. The young girl reached out and ruffled her Grunkle’s hair gently,

 

 

“Hey G-Grunkle Ford, I’m glad that your surgery went good. I-I was going coco-bananas cray-cray worried over you. I uh... I hope you wake up soon so... so I can thank you for saving me. I don’t even care that you ki-killed things, you did them cause you woulda died if you didn’t. So uhm yeah! That’s that! So uhm, when you wake up, we have to talk about all this.” Her hands moved to Ford’s arm, she held his arm in her hands and gently poked at his scars. “You have some ‘splaning to do, Grunkle Ford, lots and lots!” A half-hearted bracey grin was beaming upon her face, as she chuckled, it was a mix of amusement and hollowness, it sounded odd to say the least.  

 

 

The response, though suppressed, was a muted sigh from Ford. Though, that might just be all Dipper and Mabel may need to keep their hope burning.  

  

  

Soos stood back, staying by the open bathroom doorway, he didn’t feel it was in his place to be saying something to Dr. Pines. Yes, Soo knew he was as loved and accepted as any Pines Family member could be, yet this appeared to be some sacred ritual of sorts, a heart to heart, only reserved by for the Pines that carried the same blood in their veins 

 

 

All of a sudden, there was a crash to their right, where it looks like Wendy had fallen right out of her recliner as she was sleeping. She was upside down, her head and her arms lying on the floor. "Guh-!" The mood was temporarily broken as she tried to get up, as her phone dropped and tumbled to the floor. "Uh... Hi." She just waved them off as she slipped off of the chair.  "Ugh, darn it-" She finally lands all the way upon the floor, reclaiming her phone and putting it in her pocket in one swift motion. She got up, brushing her outfit off with a bewildered expression, before letting it go slack. 

 

 

"Uh..." Wendy felt really embarrassed right about now, coughing into her sleeve to avoid tension. She turned towards the twins, Dr. Pines, then Soos. "Umm, sorry. Didn't umm..." She shook her head, continuing. "Yeah, umm, a doctor came in a while ago asking for Mr. Pines and brought up bringing Dr. Pines here and stuff. He apparently is actually doing well, so that's umm good. His survival rate did go up to 25%!" She tried to shrug it off, before deciding to rush over to Soos, with an embarrassed expression.  

 

 

She smiled at him slightly, she definitely hadn’t intended to fall off the recliner. She would've laughed it off, but she was abashed for waking up in a heaping mess during a very tender moment. 

 

 

Dipper looked back at Wendy sort of concerned, before shrugging it off and turning back to Grunkle Ford. "You can hear us, I think." He chuffed at the small sigh, before smiling at him. "So, umm, thanks for saving my dorky sister, for being an older one, she gets in a lot of trouble~" Dipper decided to pull a joke, nudging Mabel in the arm and snickering, letting her know it was indeed a joke. 

 

 

Mabel stuck her tongue out at Dipper, "Blap!" She hummed out as she returned the nudge, but with her elbow because her hands were still rather sore from her rubbing them raw. She rolled her eyes and smirked, "H-Hey don't look at me, look at Grunkle Ford! It's obvious I get it from him! I mean the silly-head is always the damsel in distress, Grunkle Stan always has to save him haha!" A giggle, this time a true giggle of mirth, echoed through the room from Mabel. This was the first time she actually felt genuine joy since she had woken up.  

 

 

"Poor, poor Grunkle Ford, heh, we oughta put him in bubble wrap..." Her voice cut off abruptly as her eyes crossed in concentration and she folded her hands in front of her face in a pensive manner. "Mhnnnnn come to think of it... maybe we SHOULD." 

 

 

The response they got from Ford this time was a subtle twitching of his eyelids, though his eyes didn't open.  

 

 

Mabel snorted softly, it appeared her Grunkle wasn't as thrilled with her suggestion as she was. She reached out her right hand and patted the top of his head, brushing her fingers through his hair as she did so. "It is for your own good, Grunkle Ford. For your own good." 

 

  

Soos placed his hand over his mouth, stifling a snicker. He tapped his foot on the carpet, averting his gaze to Wendy, before shrugging. His stomach began to grumble softly and he patted it to try and silence it, but it only gurgled more. "I'm gonna go get breakfast, want to come with me Wendy? I heard that the Hospital Cafeteria has some mean banana and almond muffins." He whispered lowly to the redhead, so as to not disturb Dipper and Mabel. 

 

 

Wendy sighed gratefully. She put her voice down low, joining Soos in being quiet. "Sure, dude. Sounds way better than reliving that moment again-" She nods gently while she spoke. She nudged Soos a bit, smiling softly, before heading to the door. 

 

 

Dipper was obviously laughing along too. He shoved Mabel gently, turning back to Ford. " Grunkle Ford, when you wake up, you better prove her wrong-! Mabel, you're being such a Stan right now-" He giggled slightly, before some dust in the room thought it was a great time to bug him. After a few moments, Dipper unintentionally kitten-sneezed right next to Mabel. 

 

 

 **That was a mistake-**  

 

 

It was a miracle to them that Stan had been staying asleep this long. All of them had been roughhousing, crying, and a number of things, and he wasn't even phased. Stan must have been really tired. He didn't even get up when being called, unintentionally by Dipper. He was out of it, and they didn't know how long he stayed up last night. The recorder slipped right off of the night stand and tumbled loudly onto the floor.  

 

 

Dipper was half-tempted to wake him to see his brother, unknowing to the fact he already spent some time with him already, however, his eyes trailed down to the recorder in his laughter. Part of him wanted to ignore it, but he was just getting bugged by it. He opted to poke his sister on the nose to distract himself from it. 

 

 

Mabel on the other hand, couldn’t distract herself from the recorder, it was as if the device had put her into a trance. She didn’t move for near a minute, and didn’t even give Dipper a passing glance as she walked over and scooped up the device in her hands. Her hands tightened so intensely upon the recorder that her knuckles turned a stark white in contrast to the rest of her skin. “The words on this hurt so much....” She whispered, her voice so hushed to the point it was chilling, she didn’t sound like herself. It was crazy what emotional trauma could do to someone’s psyche, and well the Mystery Twins had both had their fair share of it.  

 

 

Yet, Mabel appeared as if she had sunken into a lapse of insanity. She was staring down upon the device as if it had somehow done her wrong, as if it were something to be loathed. Her hands squeezed the recorder, as if she was wringing someone’s neck, it was kind of unnerving. She paced over towards the middle of the room, and started at the far wall, as if contemplating something for a few fleeting moments before her eyes shimmered with conviction. She shuffled the recorder to one hand, she drew that hand back over her head, and took aim at the wall, hot tears starting to obscure her vision.  

 

 

She took a deep breath and prepared to propel the recorder forward, where it would surely shatter into pieces against the wall---  

 

 

But, for whatever reason, she seemed to be frozen in place like a human ice sculpture, all she did was stand there her breathing erratic. Before soft hiccups rolled through her like thunder, but they weren’t anywhere as loud as thunder, they were actually quiet as they left her. 

 

 

Dipper took a few startled steps back, as he watched his sister closely as her mannerism changed. It was like someone else took over for a few moments. His mouth remained open, in a loose grimace. "Mabel, what are you-" His eyes trained onto her picking up the discarded recorder. Her steps even seemed unnatural. As she raised her arm back with the recorder, Dipper instinctively ducked to the right, to avoid any broken pieces if she did throw it. His eyes scrunched close, before opening them nervously as nothing was launched at the wall. 

 

 

"Mabel..." 

 

 

His mouth let her name escape his lips and he recollected himself. He rushed forwards, gently taking the recorder out of her hand, dropping it gently onto the night stand. Then, Dipper quickly enveloped her into a hug, like she would do to him, trying to calm her down. "M-Mabel, it's okay, what were you..." His voice shook from his previous fear that plagued him, before his voice came out much stronger. "You're alright Mabel. Don't... Please don't scare me... Are you there?" His voice barely faltered at the end of it, opting to squeeze her, trying to remind her he was there.

 

 

“H-Huh?” Mabel’s entire body was numb, as if she’d just woken from sleeping outside in the snow. If the recorder had still been clutched in her hand, she would have dropped it as her rigid fist unclenched itself. She nearly collapsed in Dipper’s hold, but thankfully she managed to keep herself standing. “I... I’m s-sorry... I.... I s-shouldn't have tried to... even if those words hurt to listen to. I-I almost destroyed Gru-Grunkle Ford’s message to us. Oh... he must be so mad at me Dipper!” She swallowed back a thick sob, sniffling as she leaned against her twin for support. “G-Grunkle Stan would have been even madder- if he s-saw what I t-tried to do.” 

 

 

The poor girl looked faint, as if at any moment she’d plunge to the floor, and black out for who knows how long. “I-I need to sit down, I think, my head is dizzy.” 

 

 

Dipper didn't know how to react. He just nodded his head immediately, on edge from the whole situation. "O-Okay. I'll just... set you down on your bunk." Luckily, Mabel's bunk was the bottom bunk, which helped incredibly. He didn't want to think of how to get her up if she was on the second one. He helped her sit down, and placed the pillow from his bunk next to her. He backed up slightly, letting her rest. Dipper took the moment to walk over to the window, and let out some weak, shaky breaths. 

 

 

 _That was freaking terrifying, it didn't even seem like Mabel._   

 

 

Dipper was inhaling deeply and exhaling in a prolonged manner, trying to calm down, before glancing at the recorder, confused. 

* * *

 

* * *

 

The days passed by in a haze, they seemed to take forever to end, it was the fourth day since they’d arrived in the hospital. Three days after Ford nearly almost went pushing up daisies, it was now the evening of the fourth day. Ford’s condition was improving from what they could all gather. His skin tone was nearing the threshold of changing from white to a pale tan, and the dark circles that had been lingering underneath his lower eyelids were practically nonexistent. The darkness in the circles had become more subdued, and one would have to look closely down at his face to even take notice of the last remaining hue of death.  

 

 

His survival rate constantly changed every few hours each day, sometimes it would plummet causing his family strife, other times it would ascend up and let them breathe a sigh of relief. At the moment his survival rate was a steady 45 percent. He seemed to rest easier, more at ease now that the struggle he had to deal with for the first three days seemed to be releasing its hold upon him. Presently the Pines Family stayed close to him, excluding Soos and Wendy. Who had been off doing things around town, wanting to give Stan, Mabel and Dipper some time alone with Ford. 

 

 

Dipper was reading a book that was given to him from the staff. Ever since the fire, he was pretty sure that the journals might have burned that night it all went down. While that wasn't any good news, it just meant that Dipper was finally reading some new book and not just re-looking over it for the 50th time. The book he was reading was about two boys and a bird having adventures in a new world.  

 

 

There was a frog too, but Dipper barely considered him a main character. He was kind of stupid, the more he thought about it. Anyways, he managed to make it about half-way now. He didn't really have much of any other way to spend the time. One of the brothers was wearing apparently a kettle, or a tea pot. The other was wearing some weird gnome hat. It probably was a lot more normal than his head lead him to believe.  

 

 

He'd been enjoying the story, besides the fact that the boy with the gnome hat seemed to be kind of a pushover. Thinking about it, he was sure his name was Wirt or something. He was too distracted while reading over the intro. Dipper had been reading it over by the dimly lit windowsill, the curtains being much too close to his face to focus, but he tried anyways. 

 

 

A chair was filled up with weight again, no matter what Stan decided to busy his time with it only ended up with him returning to sit next to his brother, as if he was protecting him. He knew it was kind of dumb, but he didn't really care too much, he supposed. Somehow Stan still always ended up in the chair next to his brother’s side, almost subconsciously at times. While one could still count how many times Stan showed up there on a single six-fingered hand, he spent much more time at Ford’s side than the rest of his family, which was a bit troubling.  

 

 

Like he was expecting him to get up at any moment. It varied every time what he was doing though. Sometimes, Stan was talking to him. Others, he was mumbling something that the others, including Ford, couldn't hear. And the majority of the time, he was quiet. Subconsciously feeling as though he was interrupting Ford and whatever rest he got like this. But he still wanted to ground him. It was simply frustrating to Stan. He didn't want to burden him, he just wanted to help, but he didn't know which he was doing, which usually left him in silence.  

 

 

When he wasn't silent, he was mentioning something that happened that day, some stupid worry, or poking fun at another family member who messed up something to the point of it being funny. This was one of those times that Stan was silent again. He was previously talking before, but his voice ran dry.  

 

 

Mabel was biding her time drawing away on sheets of paper that the medical staff had generously gifted to her so that she wouldn’t go stir crazy out of sheer boredom. As she drew, her gaze drifted over towards Stan and Ford, she hadn’t meant to glance over in their direction, yet she found herself doing it often. She could tell that her Grunkle Stan was obviously feeling trapped and helpless, though she knew what was doing on, Mabel hadn’t the foggiest notion on how to help her Grunkle feel any better.

 

 

In fact, it might be an impossible task that she’d only fail over and over again trying to accomplish. Still, she wanted to do something for Grunkle Stan, and that’s why she was doodling away. She was finishing up a picture for him, it was a picture of Grunkle Ford waking up, and them all being happy and okay. She knew that maybe this picture would give her Grunkle Stan some slim respite from the inner turmoil that rage like a stormy sea within him, but in the end that’s probably all it would offer. It would be like one big gulp of fresh air, refreshing, yet only lasting temporarily before it faded away. 

 

 

She forced herself to look back down at her drawing, so she could add the finishing touches. After she had done so, she took to her feet and was preparing to make her way over to her Grunkle Stan, but she ended up halting after taking just a few steps, because a sense of foreboding invaded her aura. 

 

 

**The room seemed to shift in temperature and she felt as though she were now standing in a large freezing unit.**

 

 

Though no one else seemed to notice it except for her. That’s when something flitted into her field of vision and it captured her full attention, and she wanted to scream, yet her mouth wouldn’t open, it reminded her of chewing several wads of gum that got stuck to her braces and it always ended with her mouth being sealed shut. 

 

 

A menacing shadow was creeping along the ceiling, her eyes followed the massive and intimidating nebulous entity. Alarm bells began to ring off in her head as she noticed exactly where the ghastly shadow was heading. It was heading towards Grunkle Ford, Mabel tried to scream again, but nothing came out as her mouth remained clamped down. The flickering shadow was by no means concealed, it was clearly able to be seen, yet Dipper hadn’t taken notice, though that could be explained away as him being too buried into his novel to do so.  

 

 

Be that as it may, her Grunkle Stan who should have been able to see it, was blind to it. He didn’t regard the shadow in the slightest, not even when it seeped down the wall behind the headboard of Ford’s bed. 

 

 

Her heart fluttered against her ribs, like the frantic beating of the wings of a humming bird, as she saw the dark shadow detach itself from the wall. The shapeless shadow loomed over the bed, craning downwards over Ford, the shadow then tilted, what Mabel assumed to be its head, towards her, seemingly aware that she could see it. The piercing glare of the shadow plunged deep into Mabel’s soul, she stared back into the shadowy figure, shaking like the last leaf on a tree, about to be ripped mercilessly from its branch in autumn.   

 

 

_**’Pathetic.’** _

__

 

That was the only word that reverberated through her mind, and it sounded off with such maliciousness, that it left her breathless. She clutched the picture to her chest so ruthlessly that the paper had become slightly crumpled under the pressure. The shadow began to descend, it came into contact with Ford, and it appeared to be absorbed into Ford. Mabel opened her mouth wide, but no scream came out, all she did was look on, in utter paralyzing terror.  

 

 

The shadow had vanished by now, but Mabel could still sense it like a predator underneath the waves of the ocean blue, lurking in the darkness, ready to strike at any moment. 

 

 

 

 **And strike it did....**  

 

 

 

Ford’s expression began to contort in discomfort. His entire body shuddering as an icy chill settled deeply into his Mindscape.

* * *

 

* * *

His Mindscape had twisted into something macabre and disturbing. In his Mindscape he was still upon the Stan O’ War, yet the crystalline blue waves had turned pitch black, as did the surrounding area around him. Now there was only Cimmerian shade, it surrounded him like a thick, heavy, distressing and suffocating fog. A menacing voice reached his auditory receptors and he froze like an animal caught in the headlights of an oncoming vehicle.  

 

 

Mindscape Ford nearly fell over at the sound of the voice, he tried to cover his ears but he couldn’t press his hands against them hard enough, the voice only grew in intensity.  

 

 

**_‘I expected better out of ya, son!_** **_Why’d ya have to give up all ya coulda been for that piece of filth ya call brother?!’_   **

 

 

 _‘L-Leave me alone...’_  

 

**_‘Oh, why should I? After ya disrespected my authority? Ya shoulda jus’ left well enough alone, but no! No instead ya had to be some damn kinda martyr didn’t ya?_ **

**_T_** **_he hell were ya tryin’ to prove?_ ** **_S_ _tanford Filbrick Pines, ya should be ashamed of ya’self! Ya no better than Stanley!_ **

**_Both of ya are just a scourge to this planet! Ya shoulda done the world a favor and jus’ kicked the bucket in that fire!’_  **

 

 _‘E-Enough!’_  

 

 

**_‘Don’t ya talk back ta me boy!_** **_Ya thought ya was safe in your Mindscape, but ya ain’t!_ **

**_M’always gonna be here, deep down in your mind and in Stan’s mind!_ **

**_I’ll make_ _sure ya NEVER find peace, even after ya are stone cold dead, an’ six feet under the damn ground, rottin’ like both of ya deserve!’_   **

* * *

 

* * *

The turmoil in Ford’s dreaming could only outwardly seen, by the expression that had settled itself upon his face. His face reflected severe amounts of distress, by the way his brows furrowed, and his eyelids scrunched, and how his mouth was pulled into a taut grimace. Not to mention that his body was currently seized with shivers.  

 

 

A repressed whimper plucked at his vocal cords, as he shifted in position upon the bed, turning over to his side. His hands were now clenched into fists as he began to mumble fitfully, though his mumbles were not forming coherent words. 

* * *

 

* * *

Within his Mindscape the verbal abuse continued relentlessly, and it didn’t seem as if it was going to end anytime soon. Mindscape Ford had fallen to his knees, he was hunched over, his hands pushed frantically upon his ears. He was desperately trying to block it all out, but it was all for naught. 

 

 

**_‘Ya disappoint me! All ya smarts, and ya still as mentally defective as Stanley!_ **

**_Ya coulda done amazing things, but ya just had to be a fucking imbecile an’ get roped up with that demon Bill Cipher._**

**_Then get ya sorry ass pushed into that portal, by fightin’ like a pansy against ya brother!_   **

**_Ya weak spined ignoramus, ya went soft on Stan when ya shoulda kicked his ass, and told him ta take a hike!_ **

**_Then the damn Universe was put into peril all cause ya couldn’t get ya collective shit togetha!_ **

**_Yah nearly doomed the entire Universe, think of all those poor innocent souls that coulda died because of you, but hell what do I know?’_   **

 

 

 _A mocking sinister laughter boomed all around the stygian void._  

 

 

**_‘It’s not like ya ain’t killed before, Stanford! Perhaps you wouldn’t have given a damn if others perished because of your selfishness!_ **

**_B_** **_ut worst of all ya had to just go running back ta that damn screw up, the person who ruined ya life!_   **

**_And then ya had the audacity to defend him when I was dishin' out divine retribution! Both of ya are a waste of fucking air!_ **

**_Now, ya listen ta me son! I’m gonna make you know true suffering, I was too damn soft on ya, but that ends now._ **

**_Now ya gonna see what happens when ya rebel against dear old dad!’_   **

* * *

 

* * *

Another whimper left Ford in the physical realm, this time he spoke in a clear, yet tortured hushed tone, “N-No...P-P-Pa! P-Please.... please l-leave me a-alone-”  

 

 **How dare he, how fucking DARE Filbrick Elmer Pines target Stanford, when he was at his most vulnerable.**  

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OH SHIT! IT'S THE BASTARD! 
> 
> Filbrick Elmer Pines is back, back again.
> 
> And this time he's targeting Stanford.
> 
> While Stanford is at his most vulnerable.
> 
> This is so fucking low man.
> 
> Yeah I... I don't even have any puns for this.


	6. From The Shell, The Song Of The Sea; Neither Quiet Nor Calm, Searching for Love Again.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A gentle lullaby to chase away bad dreams.  
> A gentle smile on her face beams.  
> As she vanquishes the plight.  
> And brings for a soothing light.  
> Against the Ghost Mabel does ward.  
> Sweet dreams, Grunkle Ford.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh look! It's chapter 6 so soon?! YUP! Have fun reading! Bookmark this, give a kudos? Maybe even comment!? Just do what you want ahah!
> 
> Lyrics Taken From: Song Of The Sea By Lisa Hannigan.

* * *

 

* * *

 

* * *

Stan's head that originally remained in his hands, was now staring towards the vague direction of Dipper. His mind was surprisingly, clear. Realizing one thing, being near Ford made him feel better.  

 

 

 **It was a bit of a dependency, but Stan didn't care about that now.**   

 

 

Dipper seemed at peace, just a few feet away from Mabel and him. The book had gotten a ton of use lately, and Stan felt better seeing him distracted, rather than worrying. It was an improvement, at least to Stanley.  

 

 

A sudden whimper reached Stan's ears, and eyes widened as he forced his head to snap back towards his brother. His brother seemed like he was just having a small nightmare, but the more he watched him, the more he realized it was getting worse. As though a darkness was looping around Ford's ankles and wrists, aiming for the man's heart. Whatever Ford was seeing right now, it sounded extremely unpleasant. What truly caught Stan's attention was his brother's fitful movements and words. He couldn't understand them at first, they seemed slurred and broken. 

 

 

He lifted himself gently from his chair, his gaze frozen on Stanford. His hand shook for only a moment, before quickly landing upon his shoulder, trying to give his brother something to feel or hold on to. After moments crawled by, and his body didn't stop moving, Stan gently nudged Ford, trying to get his attention away from whatever haunted him.  

 

 

"Hey, Ford... Y-You're okay, you're alright." His voice started out quiet, leaving his assumptions to control his words, at first oblivious to what happened in his brother's mind. Soon, his tone rose slightly in volume, trying to get Ford out of whatever he dreamed himself into. The next whimper, however, let Ford’s voice break free from its chords, the words that left his twin caused ice cold terror to settle in the pit of Stan’s soul. 

 

 

 **_Those... Those words... Those words about their Pa IMMEDIATELY made Stanley's heart collapse in on itself in fear and concern._ ** 

 

 

Whatever was going on in there, it involved that wandering demon that was their father. Filbrick had been pissed off when he had confronted Stan and after Ford protected him, Stan already knew this all too well, but for Filbrick to be attacking Ford at his lowest was... was incredibly cruel.   **"Stanford-!"**  Stanley leaned himself against his brother's bed, shaking Ford's shoulders, gently, but firm. Whatever Ford was hearing, it was no doubt wrong, it was so, so wrong.  **"Stanford c-can you hear me?!"**  

 

 

 **God, Stanley really, really wish he could tell if Ford heard him. If he didn't...**  

 

 

 _Well, he had to take a chance again, as he gently nudged his brother._ His voice uttered a low, heavy whisper. "Darn it, Pa... Why won't you leave him t'hell alone-?!" 

 

 

Stanley yearned that he could enter the Mindscape, just to beat up their old man. That hell of a jerk didn't deserve to go anywhere near Stanford, **especially** while he’s like this-! 

 

 

Mabel, once she was released from her own debilitating fear, rushed over towards her two Grunkles in the blink of an eye. She stood next to Grunkle Stan and gazed upwards to him, her eyes shimmering with concern. “G-Grunkle Stan wh-what's going on? Is Grunkle Ford having a bad dream? C-Can I help somehow? What can I do---? There must be something right?!” Her words came flying forth and they were so compacted together that it mostly sounded like gibberish.  

 

 

Her gaze settled on her Grunkle Ford’s terrified face, and she reached out and placed a hand on his cheek, patting it soothingly. “H-Hey Grunkle Ford it’s okay.... it’s just a bad dream.” Her voice softened into a gentle murmur. “Come on, it’s gonna be alright!” She didn’t know if her words were getting through to her Grunkle Ford, yet she prayed they were. 

 

 

Her poor Grunkle didn’t deserve such suffering after all he’s been through thus far. 

* * *

 

* * *

 

Excruciating agony surged forth within Ford’s soul, never before had he ever been in subjected to such torturous throbs that assaulted every last atom that made up his entire being. All he knew was the agony, he couldn’t even hear his father anymore, or see anything but the all-consuming darkness around him.

 

He was falling through the abyss, down, spiraling, flailing faster and faster and faster. It reminded him of the Bottomless Pit in a manner of speaking. The deeper Ford plunged down, the more turmoil he had to endure through. Sweet constellations of the Multiverse, just what had Filbrick done to him? He wasn’t for certain, all he knew was that whatever he was doing it was cruel, so cruel, especially when he was already in such a fragile state.  

 

 

The abuse to his soul only intensified, and he began to drift in the darkness, unable to escape the appalling assault his father was inflicting upon him. Then something else found its way into Ford’s Mindscape, or rather two somethings, that seemed to be driving back the pain. The pain ebbed and waned, as two brilliant lights began to chase away the darkness. The aura of the lights were familiar to Ford but he couldn’t quite place why that was so, not until he heard the voice of his twin and his great niece fretting over him. 

 

 

Ah, so that’s what these two lights floating around him were. Unknowingly Stan and Mabel’s protective and compassionate aura was causing Filbrick’s hold on Ford to weaken. The throbbing dulled as Filbrick began to lose his control over what he was doing to Ford. In the physical realm Ford’s tremors had decreased, and his contorted expression began to soften, yet it still remained. 

* * *

 

* * *

 

He hadn’t any idea but his hands had latched against Stan’s wrists. There was also one other thing he wasn’t aware of. 

 

 

“S-Stan...”  

 

 

He hadn’t any idea he’d called out his brother’s name during all of this, and the way he had called out, was nothing but desperate and pleading. At least Stan had one confirmation, it was that Ford had heard him. That and it appeared as if whatever Nightmare was plaguing him was on the verge of falling apart, and leaving him be. Now, if only they could find out a way to banish Filbrick from Ford’s Mindscape somehow. So that Ford could be freed from the Night terror that was causing him such turmoil. 

 

 

Dipper, now completely aware of the turmoil that happened, jumped to his feet, rushing over to the rest of his family, his book left abandoned on the floor. "G-Grunkle Stan, Mabel, what's going-" His legs froze a few feet away from whatever was going on in front of him. Without much notice, he rushed up next to his Grunkle Ford like the rest of them, fretting about and trying to recall about the journal. By what it sounded like, this had to deal with a ghost, but it wasn't like they had a silver mirror and... -

 

 

Dipper, in the heat of the moment, began to try to help his family with very little words being said. He just kept trying to give more motion to him so he finally would wake up. Dipper's breathing sped up, as his eyes darted over to Mabel, with a sickeningly lost expression that reminded her of a long time ago, when the portal was opening. He didn't say anything, he just turned back to Ford, staring helplessly at him. 

 

 

Stanley was still constantly fighting to get any expression or calmness through to his brother, before all of a sudden, his wrists were taken captive by his brother's six fingered hands. His hands froze up at the feeling of them, raising slightly above Ford, before placing his arms back onto Ford's shoulders. His body was surprised, but much more amazed by the contact more than anything. Much less what uttered from Ford's lips soon after.  

 

 

 **_His own name._ ** 

 

 

Stan felt a chill run down his neck as he heard it clearly. This wasn't just some involuntary flinch or a small clasp at his hands, this was Ford. That was his... his name. Ford...  **Ford could hear him.**

 

 

"S-Stanford! I don' know what to do-!" His voice dropped, realizing that isn't exactly getting anywhere. One of his hands went to his opposite hand and rested on his brother's hand there.  

 

 

"We need to get... get that freaking-...!" He stopped himself momentarily. "Pa needs to get his own freaking space. 'M not leavin' ya in there with him." Stan's train of thought failed as he looked around hopelessly. His hand gripped Stanford's, tightly as it could. He wanted to keep him grounded somehow while he figured this out, and this was his best bet. 

 

 

Mabel didn’t know why, but out of everyone, she thought that she had taken what had been happening to them in far strides better than anyone else. After her initial panic, a thought popped into her head as she recalled that whenever she had nightmares her mother or father would sing a lullaby to her. It never failed to lull her back into tranquil dreams, now she wasn’t certain if a lullaby would help her Grunkle Ford against a ghost, much less the ghost of his father, by the way Stan was implying it to be. She took a deep breath and then released it, her voice drifting melodiously all around them. 

 

 

“Between the here, between the now  

Between the North, between the South  

Between the West, between the East  

Between the time, between the place  

From the shell  

The song of the sea  

Neither quiet nor calm  

Searching for love again.” 

 

 

Ford’s hands promptly began to loosen against Stan’s wrists as Mabel began singing. His entire body seemed to start relaxing. The dark aura around them was receding, losing its grip upon Ford, being warded off by Mabel’s lullaby. 

 

 

“Mo ghrá 

Between the winds, between the waves  

Between the sands, between the shores  

From the shell  

The song of the sea.” 

 

 

The heavy darkness broke away, slowly vanishing, finally relinquishing its stubborn hold upon Ford. Ford’s uneven breaths began to steady out, and his tremoring began to cease. His expression falling back into a calming serenity.  

 

 

“Neither quiet nor calm  

Searching for love again  

Between the stones, between the storms  

Between belief, between the seas  

Tá mé i dtiúin.” 

 

 

Mabel finished softly, a gentle and joyful smile upon her face. She couldn’t believe that she had just banished a ghost and a nightmare right out of her Grunkle’s Mindscape just by singing him a lullaby. 

 

 

Dipper's expression went from freaked out, to being pleasantly surprised. He turned to Mabel in utter confusion, wondering how in the world she could've managed that with a lullaby. He just backed up slowly from their Grunkle, slowly edging towards her. His voice had abandoned him for a moment. Then when his voice returned, his words were shaky, and a bit unnerved, but it wasn't in a bad way, he supposed. "How... How did you know that would work-?" 

 

 

He turned his head over to look at Grunkle Ford, whom was now in a state of calmness, brought forth by Mabel’s lullaby. Dipper’s mouth tugged down into a small frown, he found himself wishing that he had been more helpful in that situation. He nervously wrung his hands, thinking over how his sister seemed like she was just on top of everything. Back when Ford got out of the fire, and even now, he couldn't shake it off. After a few moments, he decided to lean against the bed, recollecting the forgotten book, that laid with its pages spread out everywhere, and probably folded at least in some places. 

 

 

Stanley's mouth was frozen open, as he felt Stanford release his grip. Anger burned in him like a wildfire, bursting at the seams. Whatever Mabel did, sure he was relieved beyond measure about it, but he now felt completely useless against his own father again. It was alarming that there were now two awful moments that had occurred all because of his old man. One of his hands returned to his side as he turned to look at the heart monitor, which seemed to have returned to a somewhat normal pace. His other hand went subconsciously back to Ford's opposite hand, holding it firmly. He didn't honestly recognize that he did that.  

 

 

When his voice found its way back to him it was his usual gruff tone, although it was ever so slightly unnerved.

 

 

"Good job Pumpkin-!" He turned to Mabel, with a small smile that she didn't miss. Under everything, he was absolutely pissed off, but his facial expression concealed it in surprisingly well. He just wanted to freaking beat t'hell out of their Pa, and send him to the deepest layer of hell to suffer there. It was low for him to be picking on and harming his own son when he was like this. His free hand clenched up in anger towards the man. While his other hand, the one he tried not to give pressure to, did tighten a fraction, enough that Ford could feel his anger at this point, although knowing this wasn't aimed at him. Stan was muttering some choice words to himself as he looked back down. 

 

 

Mabel took her hand, which had been resting on her Grunkle Ford's cheek while she sang, and softly brushed her fingers through Ford's hair. This seemed to calm Ford down even more as a soft sigh of contentment and relief left him. When Stan's hand tightened its grip around his, he returned the gesture by lightly curling his fingers around Stan's hand.  

 

 

Mabel's relieved gaze locked with Dipper and she shrugged, "I didn't." She admitted as her smile widened after she heard Grunkle Stan's praise towards her. "I just remembered when I used to have nightmares. Mom or dad would sing me a lullaby to help me calm down, and to chase away all the scary nightmares. I thought maybe it would help Grunkle Ford." She continued to brush her hand through Ford's hair. She giggled in mirth as she watched her Grunkle Ford rest calmly now. Her ruffling her hand through his hair seemed to soothe him even more. "Awww he's like a sleeping kitten." 

 

 

Dipper frowned confusedly for a second. His mind seemed to be trying to make sense of it, but his thoughtful look died off as quickly as it came, soon replaced with a small smile, and he mirrored Mabel’s shrug with his own. His small, awkward laugh was stifled slightly. "I think I remember what you're talking about. You do know I wasn't asleep when they happened, right?"  Dipper stared at his sister knowingly, before it was overrun by an abashed gaze. "You woke me up, every time, trust me-" He laughed slightly, as he remembered one particular moment.  

 

 

"Wasn't one of them about you being chased by a kitten, of all things, that was firing glitter at you? Didn't sound that scary-" That dream in particular was much like Mabel's experience with smile dip. It was weirder than anything, if she had to think about it now. Dipper found it very funny that it scared her, at least at the moment. Dipper nudged her elbow gently. 

 

 

Stan turned his head, curiously towards Dipper and Mabel. He didn't actually think that what she had done had with her lullaby would have worked- but hell did he not care. Not in like a rude way, of course, but he was just happy whatever Filbrick had been doing to Ford was put to an abrupt halt. The small reaction of Ford's hand against his own made him feel slightly calmer. "Welp, it's not like I wasn' expectin' somethin' like that jus' ending it. Ford's got a weird way of calmin' down sometimes. Sleepin' like a kitten seems fittin', though." His mouth curled into a smile that was replaced as he released a breath that he didn't even known he'd been holding. 

 

 

He reflected that if there was one good thing that came from this, it was that Stanford was actually able to hear him. His shoulders slumped down as he listened to the twins talking back and forth. After all of that stress, this was a well-deserved rest. "Poindexter, ya alright?" His voice briefly spoke, somehow not in his harsher tone, which growled inside. What his father had done was still getting under his skin, but the fury he felt was finally starting to burn out, if only for a while. 

 

 

Mabel stiffened up at the reminder of that kitten dream, she gazed piercingly into Dipper’s eyes. “Dipper you don’t understand, that kitty shooting glitter at me was a baaaadddd kitten. It was all like rraawwwrrr and I was all like aaahhhh! Then it was all like hiiissssss and I was all like ahhhhhhhhhhhhhh!” The girl’s explanation of the Nightmare was one of over dramatics. She shuddered as she recollected that the kitten tried to eat her in her Nightmare. “Then it tried to eat me, Dipper! It tried to eat me like I was a mouse! It was the darkest of nights I ever weathered Dipdop, the darkest!”  

 

 

As Mabel droned on about her nightmare, the corners of Ford’s mouth twitched, as if his mouth was trying to form a smile. Alas only a faint ghost of a smile managed to settled itself upon his face. The faint smile became the answer to Stan’s questioning, Ford was obviously doing just fine if he was able to give a reaction to Mabel’s antics. 

 

 

"It also tried to crush me! Crush me with its fluff and glitter!” Mabel squeaked out much like a mouse. “It wanted to smother me! And then---” She gasped dramatically, her hands now cupping Dipper’s cheeks as she pressed her forehead against his. “…. then chocolate rain poured down from the sky and it got the kitten even angrier! It used me as a scratching post, Dipper! A scratching post!” Her hands went down to her twin’s shoulders and he shook him lightly, “It was pawful, absolutely a-paw-ling!”

 

 

Dipper shoved her gently away, genuinely laughing at her overreaction. He removed her arms from his shoulders and sneaked passed her. "Honestly, I've had waaay scarier dreams than that-" He mocked her in a playful tone. He stifled his laughter as he hid his face in his book. He giggled slightly at his sister's pun, but inside he felt himself sighing so hard. "Your fuzzy kitten dream is an amateur dream~" His laughter busted through his lungs at that moment, mockingly, as he hid behind his book. 

 

 

Stanley's vocal chords fought against his snickering at the sight, and maybe the puns. Keeping his hand locked in his brother's, his other hand covering his mouth, before lowering it. He watched Dipper sneak away with his book towards the windowsill again.

 

 

After a bit of thinking, he glanced momentarily at Ford, before back to the twins. He muffled a laugh as Dipper decided to grab a pillow and used it as a shield. "I don' see how that's paw-sible, I mean-" Stan began, letting go of Ford’s hand, as he walked over to them. He had this ridiculous look on his face. "Look, I've obviously had the worst- Last night I had a dream that I was swimming in an ocean of orange soda. I guess it was just a Fanta sea!" Stanley smirked at their playfulness. "When I woke up, I was just crushed, it was sodapressing!" 

 

 

Mabel flopped down onto the floor, roaring laughter made her body tremble. She clutched her sides, her eyes watering. It was such a delight to see her so joyful again, it didn’t need to be stated, but everyone else was fearful that Mabel wouldn’t ever smile or laugh again after what happened. So, to see her this happy well it was like an omen that could only mean one thing, it surely meant that the outcome of this horrible experience they found themselves in was going to end up having a happy conclusion. 

 

 

Ford shifted slightly on his bed, his arms now wrapped around his pillow. He buried his face into the fabric of the pillow, his short huff being muffled by the pillow. It was as if he was expressing his displeasure of Stan’s puns. 

 

 

Mabel sat up, her hands pressed against her stomach and between her laughs she spoke up in a breathless manner, “You’re annoying Sleeping Floofy, Grunkle Stan.” Sleeping Floofy? What a bizarre way to say Sleeping Beauty. Mabel got to her feet and wiped at her eyes. “Maybe we should stop kitten around for a while, so Grunkle Ford can have a purrfect nap?” 

 

 

Dipper, while Mabel was mid-pun-lecturing Stan, came up behind her, using the pillow and biffing it right into her head. He was laughing, which had been a while before he had done it genuinely. The pillow flopped dramatically onto Mabel. "Hah-! Don't let your guard down~!" Dipper picked the pillow back up, standing triumphantly, and being a huge target if Mabel wanted to attack back. Dipper doesn't usually play like this, thinking about it. He wasn't going to stop though, he couldn't help but take the free hit that Mabel left open. It was too perfect to waste- and even Dipper knew that. 

 

 

Stan's good, hearty laugh echoed around the room. Ford, and the twins, haven't heard Stan laugh like this for a while, especially since the fire. It was refreshingly delightful, he returned to Ford’s side, taking his brother’s hand in his once more, while his other hand was making some over-exaggerated gesture. "This has got to be claw-ful for him, ain’t it? I mean, 'm a fur-midable pun-master, but still-!" He snickered through his own puns as he tried to word them. "Purr-haps I can give 'im a break?” 

 

 

Ford replied with a wordless mumble of mock irritation, before a nearly inaudible sigh escaped him. He drifted back off into a contented quietude, signaling that he had fallen into his dreaming once more. Hopefully whatever dream he found himself in this time would be one of benevolence, and he could get the rest his body required, so that he could wake up from his dormancy soon. 

 

 

Mabel had cried out in sheer jollity as Dipper smacked her with his pillow, she scampered frantically away from him, launching herself onto the bed she had claimed as her own. She snatched up her pillow and stood upon the bed, glaring mischievously down at Dipper.  **“The mother of all pillow wars has begun! Let the feathers in the pillows fly, as the title of the Alpha twin is decided once and for all!”** She gestured to Dipper to come at her, her expression that had been serious, now broke with her snickering, she couldn’t keep a straight face. She took a short glance over at her Grunkle Stan, “Grunkle Stan, watch me as I teach Dipper not to mess with the champion of pillows fights, I invented pillow fighting you know.~”  

 

 

Dipper grabbed his pillow in a better position, before climbing up onto the bed confidently. There was a competitive attitude that radiated around Dipper. His mouth curling up as a smile, he rushed forward towards his twin, who was mocking him. On his way over, he snatched up a smaller, red throw-pillow and spun it right towards Mabel. The pillow hit her in the shoulder, missing the apparent target of his throw which had been her face, he’d been meaning to fake her out and catch her off guard. His voice grew with power, booming with excitement. "You wish-!" He charges over the springy mattress of the bed, launching himself with a yell towards Mabel, swinging the pillow for her. 

 

 

A deep bellied laugh began to rumble with joy inside of Stan. He turned his head down to Ford for a moment, seeing him resting contently. He slowly squeezed his hand, before releasing it.  

 

 

 _Have a good sleep, Ford._  

 

 

Stan got up and made his way over to the bed Mabel and Dipper were on, a content, but smug grin on his face. He leaned against the wall, watching the twins. "'m watching! Come on, Pumpkin-! Get that nerd down-" He pumped his arms as well to show his appreciation. He cheered, as the gruesome pillow fight continued. For a moment, Stan closed his eyes, and something came up, a memory that he didn’t even know he had, revealed itself to him. 

 

 

Turns out that there might be more memories that have yet to be uncovered by Stan. Which sort of unnerved him, since he’d had a year to recall much of his life. He wondered how many more memories he was still missing, however right now this memory that came to the surface...  _this one was pleasant._  

* * *

 

* * *

 

_The memory of his rushed to a moment, that was probably around 48 years ago. When a pillow side-swept his face and he tumbled to the ground. He got up, probably with record speed, and jumped up onto the bed again, grabbing a pillow and slamming into a young kid._

 

_A kid, that in the mirror, looked just like him. Ford pressed the pillow back, before the fight continued. Eventually, Ford tumbled onto the floor, landing next to Fort Stan, on top of a plaid-colored pillow._

 

 _Stan got down, dubbed it a tie, and called a truce for the night._   _A six-fingered hand met a five-fingered hand, and Ford was helped up from his inconvenient landing. Two sets off blissful laughter filled their room, before Stan thought to himself that Ford beat him usually at these. He was honestly proud of the outcome of this memory, and it was a weird feeling._  

 

 _Definitely a weird feeling._  

* * *

 

* * *

 

Stanley opened his eyes, turning his head towards the twins, Mabel slammed a pillow straight into Dipper's chest, and after recovering, Dipper jumped back up, hitting Mabel again. Stan was yearning to grab a pillow and lay down pillow law upon them both, but he wasn't sure if he was invited to the mother of all pillow wars, so he opted for cheering. He cheered on for no twin in particular to win, he wasn’t playing any favorites now, just having a grand old time watching his niece and nephew have fun again. 

 

 

About an hour into the pillow war, Mabel found herself pinning Dipper down onto the bed, “Pinned yah!” She proclaimed with a sense of joyful pride. She stuck her tongue out at him and blew a raspberry before she chanted,  **“Alpha twin! Alpha twin!”**  

 

 

Then in that instant a devious idea graced her thoughts, a smug look appeared upon her face and she rolled away from Dipper, before she helped him, and leaned in close to Dipper. She whispered lowly into his ear, too low for Grunkle Stan to hear, “Let’s get Grunkle Stan! Mystery twin sneak attack style!~” 

 

 

Dipper fake brushed himself off, making a sassy face, whispering to Mabel. " _Oh, so NOW you don't want to pin me~!_ " He laughed to himself. "Making your enemy a comrade~" Dipper smiled slightly in the moment, turning to Stan, who was gazing away from them. He gently and quietly grabbed his discarded pillow. After a nudge from him, Mabel grabbed her pillow too. With a devious face from Dipper, he backed up a few paces on the bed, looking at Stan.  _"That sounds like a great idea-!"_  Soon his whispers died off, as he ran full-on without Mabel.  

 

He swung the pillow with no mercy at Stan's head, jumping off of the bed. 

 

 

Realizing he was being targeted, Stanley grabbed a blue and green striped pillow behind them. "Oh, so ya youngsters want to fight me, huh kid?"  

 

 

Dipper was edging back and forth, keeping his attention as he fought against Stan's originally weak pillow swing, winking at Mabel to signal her over. With Stan distracted, Mabel could attack him from behind-  

 

 

As Mabel was beginning to move, Dipper preemptively let out what was akin to a battle-cry,  _if he had one._   **"Don't underestimate the Mystery Twins-!"**  

 

 

Like a ninja under the cover of eventide, Mabel tip-toed towards her Grunkle Stan, whom was thoroughly distracted by Dipper’s pillow swings. A giggle bubbled in her vocal cords, threatening to give away her position and alert Stan of her impending attack. With a swift sweep of her arms she thwacked her pillow against her Grunkle’s side, just as her giggle was allowed its freedom. “ **FEAR THE MYSTERY TWINS!”**  She hollered, her grin so wide that it was causing her cheeks discomfort with dull twinging aches. 

 

 

She wondered momentarily when the last time she had smiled this widely had been, and her memories filtered through her brain, until it landed on the night of the fire. The last time she had been smiling like this, was when Grunkle Ford had been telling her about the time he escaped certain doom from an alien stronghold, using nothing but his intellect in order to break out. 

 

 

After the memory flashed away, she jumped back, almost being struck by Stan’s pillow as he retaliated. “Hah, nice try old man! But Dipper and I have the power of youth on our side.~” She hummed out boastfully, winking, as she took up a stance of offence. Readying herself for whatever their Grunkle had up his sleeves. 

 

 

Dipper slammed his pillow into Grunkle Stan once again, then retreating back a few feet. Dipper reclaimed the small red throw-pillow from behind, spinning, and luckily landing is mark, hitting right off of Grunkle Stan's nose.  

 

 

He chased after it, laughing all of the way towards Stan, hitting him in the stomach with one. Another swing later, and Stan's pillow came flying at Dipper, sluggish but strong. Dipper dodged the first attack, the second attack, but failed to dodge the third attack. The pillow knocked him off guard, and relatively undefended, his pillow discarded upon the floor ahead of him, before Grunkle Stan hit him again with the pillow, then picked him up triumphantly. 

 

 

Dipper fought in vainly at the hold, his laughter caught off guard, being rather stuck up there. "MYSTERY TWIN DOWN!" His voice erupted out, before being engulfed by laughter. Stanley, who was holding him up with one hand, was laughing as well.  

 

 

The other hand firmly held his pillow. "AHA! Ya are no match for me-!" Stanley's laugh was contagious.  

 

 

Dipper struggled to get down, but he was out of the game- unless Mabel got him down- Dipper's laugh bounced as he swung, playfully swinging at Grunkle Stan's arms.  

 

 

 **_Now it's time to start the fun, now let's see which Pines survives!_ ** 

 

 

Mabel gasped in mock terror as her eyes bulged wide, staring at Dipper’s struggle to free himself from his Grunkle’s firm hold upon him. She lunged forward and grabbed up Dipper’s discarded pillow, and now armed with pillow power x2 she shuffled back, crouched down, wiggling as she did so. Her tongue poked out of the corner of her mouth, and her gaze glistened with deep concentration.  **“MABEL DOUBLE PILLOW POWER ATTACK!”** She jumped forward and dashed over, slamming herself and her pillows against Grunkle Stan’s side, the forcefulness of her sprint caused them all to barrel over and land in a Pines pile on the carpeted floor.  

 

 

The impact caused the pillows to fly through the air and land a few feet away from them, “Oops eep!” The young girl cheeped in abashment at how the end result of her pillow assault on Grunkle Stan had turned out. 

 

 

Dipper had managed to break free from Grunkle Stan's grip, however. He quickly got up, to snatch up his discarded pillow, before dodging out of the way of Stan's swing. He didn't have enough time to reach the other one, before turning, noticing Grunkle Stan's attention went onto Mabel. Dipper quickly ran over, his pillow in hand, and went in front of Mabel, using the pillow as a makeshift shield.  

 

 

Grunkle Stan's pillows swung harshly onto Dipper's defense, causing Dipper to slightly fall backwards. Catching himself, he nudged Mabel to the left, following in unison to defend Mabel as she got closer to the other pillow. After Stan decided to try to push Dipper over with his pillow, Dipper struggled to fall into position to push back, slipping back on the carpet, as Stan pushed slowly with ease. "Ya caught on a standstill, aren't ya?" Stan's voice mocked, as he pushed at Dipper over, who was trying his hardest to fend him off as Mabel made her way to her discarded pillow. 

 

 

Mabel’s pillow soon found its way back into her hands and she rejoined the fray. Mabel and Dipper struggled against the might of their Grunkle, who they soon learned was a force to be reckoned with when it came to pillow fighting. The Mystery Twins stood side by side as they came to blows with Grunkle Stan, the tides turning and changing moment to moment. When it appeared The Mystery Twins had it in the bag, Grunkle Stan would one up them with a surprise. Their joyous laughter and good-natured taunts filled the room. 

 

 

The mother of all pillow wars, as Mabel put it, lasted for a span of three hours and thirty minutes. It would have lasted much longer had it not been for the fact that Stan had effectively worn Mabel and Dipper down with his boundless energy that the twins swore came out if nowhere. But the twins becoming exhausted wasn’t what halted their fun, what halted their fun was something else entirely. 

 

 

Mabel had been disarmed by Stan, and her pillow flung across the room and slammed into the stand that held the recorder on it. The event seemed to happen in slow motion, just like in the movies. The recorder was sent skyrocketing off of the stand and through the air.  

 

 

**The recorder would have ended up smashed upon the floor---**

 

 

Had it not been for Mabel, who miraculously gained a sporadic burst of energy, as she yanked Dipper’s pillow out if his hand and made a mad dash after the recorder. She launched herself forward and ended up slamming down onto the ground, upon her stomach, her arms outstretched. The soft pillow in her hands absorbed the impact of the recorder as it landed atop it, unharmed.  **“Got it!”**  She announced out of breath, panting heavily, her heart galloping like a wild untamed horse within her chest. 

 

 

Dipper, who was heavily out of breath at this point, was unbalanced from the sudden pillow snatch. He leaned on the nearby bed, panting, and rather shocked over the display. Standing up, his giggles abruptly stopped after Mabel shouted out, as she was holding up the recorder. He remembered, only a few days ago, she almost... why would she save it if-?  His train of thought crashed and burned off, glad to see that it was indeed alright. "That was a pretty gosh darn good catch-!" Dipper gushed out before he went quiet, to try to catch his breath, regarding the recorder thoughtfully.  

 

 

After one glance at Stan, he noticed that he was shocked over how fast the events just happened, but he grew more relieved slightly with her catch. He still stood triumphantly, before getting off of the ground, coughing a bit. Dipper had half a mind to hand it over to Stan... the boy grabbed it from Mabel and approached Stan so he could put it back where he wanted it, but-  

 

 

"Nah kid. 'm good." Stan shrugged slightly, as he looked at the twins. "Don' need it. Ya can just set it down somewhere. 'm pretty sure I can at least trust him." He turned to Stanford, who was resting amazingly peacefully at the moment. With the recent change in skin tone and his restful expression, they were all confident that things were starting to turn around for the better. Even him.  

 

 

That burning candle of hope had long gone unnoticed as they played, but Stan realized that it grew as he smiled.  

 

 

 **He wasn't scared about what the future had in store anymore.**  

 

 

Mabel flopped down upon her discarded pillow, utterly wiped from the three hour and thirty-minute pillow war. Her gaze followed Grunkle Stan’s over to where Ford rested soundly. A tried grin stretched over her face as a yawn left her, "I bet that Grunkle Ford is gonna wake up soon, and when he does, I'm gonna give him a big hug... a big but gentle hug." She was starting to feel the beck and call of slumber creeping up upon her. Her eyelids drooped as she yawned once again, "I'm gonna take a nap...." 

 

 

Dipper sighed happily for a second, trying to rouse her. "You can at least go to sleep on like... the bed-" As she was falling asleep, he turned to Grunkle Stan, who walked over to where they were, bending down. The young boy sighed, moving over as Grunkle Stan picked her up with ease.

 

 

"Mmmhmm, ya sure are Pumpkin. But not before I take ya to bed." He walked over, putting Mabel on her bunk, and tucking her in. Stanley frowned slightly but not in a bad way. He was recalling that brief memory lapse? Was it a memory lapse? It felt like one, but he knew it was happening. Stan decided to call it a memory recall instead. That whole scene felt so familiar to it, but brand new in every other way. Stanley wasn't complaining, not at all. Just, it felt different, and much better than anything this week. "Ya should probably go to bed to, kid." 

 

 

Dipper shuddered at the random attention that was placed on him. He was in the middle of replacing the recorder on the night stand, before abruptly turning around. "I-I'm not tired-!" 

 

 

"That's what ya said after three nights of no sleep, and some stupid amount of energy drinks. Get going." He nudged him towards the bunks where Dipper climbed up quickly. Despite his previous complaint, the moment he hit the pillow, he only took about five seconds before he was out like a light. Stan stood there for a few moments, merely glancing at them, before deeming everything fine. He gently re-positioned the recorder, before letting out a deep breath. His body hit his bed. It was nearing bed time for the twins, and while Stan could try to stay up, he was tired himself. 

 

 

After a while of lying there, Stan let his gaze settle on the clock, it was now: **7:43PM**

 

 

He yearned to stay up in cased Ford woke, but after all of that, plus the fact that he's old, didn't help. Besides, Gravity Falls gets really dark pretty quickly. The only thing that worried him, was the fact that Soos hasn't shown up yet, but he was sure he was okay. As far as Wendy was concerned, Stan was sure she'd be fine, she had a home to head back to, so it was likely she was with her father and her brothers. Soos was late, but Stan knew the lug well enough to know he's probably fine. Perhaps he was even staying at Wendy's?

 

 

He'd show up later, but Stan was too tired to wait up for him, though he was certain Soos would understand. Taking a nap was much higher on the agenda. He murmured softly before dozing off. 

 

  

 _G'night, Ford._  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Nightmares aren't welcome here!  
> Mabel makes sure of that.  
> The MOTHER OF ALL PILLOW WARS X'D  
> It's good to see them all doing much better!  
> Especially Ford!


	7. So Wake Me Up When It's All Over, When I'm Wiser And I'm Older; All This Time I was Finding Myself, And I Didn't Even Know I Was Lost.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Six days they've been in a haze.  
> Six days they've been aimlessly wandering an emotional maze.  
> Sentimental dreams break.  
> He's awake.  
> Two old men fall apart.  
> As their tears spill forth in their heart to heart.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> CHAPTER 7 IS HERE! 
> 
> HOPE YOU ENJOY! 
> 
> COMMENT 
> 
> BOOKMARK 
> 
> KUDOS? 
> 
> GIVE WHATEVER! 
> 
> CAUSE THIS IS THE MOMENT WE ALL BEEN WAITING FOR! 
> 
>  
> 
> The Chapter Title Are Lyrics Taken From: Wake Me Up by Avicii 
> 
> I figured that I tormented you all in suspense long enough~

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* * *

 

The fifth day in the hospital came and went uneventfully, most of that day had been spent lounging about and checking up on Ford every so often. His skin had gained much of its tan hue back, it was lighter than his normal hue sure, but he looked more alive, especially since the dark circles underneath his eyes had faded away completely.  

  

When the doctors came in to do the last checkup of the day then, they had told Stan, Dipper, Mabel, Wendy and Soos that the danger to Ford’s life had passed, and that he was out of the woods. The last shadows of fear, the shadows that once whispered maliciously that they’d lose Ford, had been obliterated and replaced with solace, elation, and an intense light of burning hope.  

  

**All they had to do now was wait for him to wake up from his comatose state.**  

  

It was now the eve of the sixth day, and Ford’s appearance was back to a healthy normalcy, it was as if his eyes would open any second even. Currently, Dipper and Mabel were with Soos and Wendy who had taken them to the Hospital Cafeteria for supper, they offered Stan to come with them, but he declined the offer. He wanted to stay with his brother, he didn’t want to chance missing the moment that Ford woke up. He needed to be here, just like when he had opened the portal. He hadn’t missed Ford coming home when the portal opened, and he wasn’t about to miss Ford coming back to him and the kids, not now, not ever.  

  

A hand waved goodbye to the four of them, as they went out into the hallway, and towards the cafeteria. Stan sitting in a chair beside him once again. It felt like something familiar, definitely. He stared at the heart monitor quietly, as if it would tell him when he'd awaken. Like he would just get up and that screen would tell him. But... nothing. The clock didn't give him much help either, but it was something Stan also stared at.   

  

"Hey Sixer, ya plannin' on getting up someday? I don' even know if ya are asleep, doing ya dreamin' thing or whatever." His gaze stared at the clock, with his hands on his head. The sky was brighter than yesterday. Stan swears it changed over the days, but he couldn't tell if that was just him. "Ya sure are takin' ya time with this one, huh?" Stan didn't know if he was paying attention to him, but he decided to fill the void of silence anyways. His voice did fizz out soon after, however, as he looked at the window.    
 

* * *

 

* * *

  

* * *

Oh yes, Ford was planning on waking up, though at the moment he was studying the beyond in his own Mindscape wondering just how he’d go about doing so. An air of bewilderment coursed through his mind, as he pondered upon just what was required to wake up from a comatose state such as this. He hadn’t the faintest idea of what he should be doing and it wasn’t often his intellect would become perplexed. Though, he wasn’t too shocked that he was coming up empty, he’d never been comatose before. So, it was no wonder he didn’t know how he’d arrive to the surface of the beyond.  

  

He’d never attempted doing so before, simply because he hadn’t ever needed to. Now his soul was heavy and bogged with regret that he hadn’t ever tried to rouse himself from his own slumbering with his own will. He could hear his twin loud and clear, and he wanted nothing more than to fulfill Stan’s request of waking up. The more he sought for an answer, the more oblivious to his own Mindscape he became. His ever-sharp senses missed the distortions that were cropping up all around him.   

  

He only became aware of what was happening when a torrential deluge of rain began to fill up the sea around the Stan O’ War. The rain only fell around the boat, never once did a drop of rain spray against the deck of the Stan O’ War, nor did it touch Ford in any capacity. Soon the ocean swelled and rose, higher and higher and higher. He wasn’t certain what set off the event, but he found that he didn’t care too much.  

  

A billow of warmth seized Ford’s soul, the warmth originated at its core. The warmth encircled his soul, and Ford felt himself ever closer to attaining consciousness as the beyond would soon be within his grasp. The waves underneath the Stan O’ War gave the boat one last propulsion and finally Ford was standing just underneath the surface of the beyond. As he regarded the beyond, a reflection started to take shape, and he was staring back at his own image---  

  

No, not his own image, but a mirror image with a few minor differences. The surface of the beyond was showing him an illusion of his twin Stanley. Curiously he reached out to touch the illusion before him, and to his astonishment reflection Stan mimicked his movement. Ford’s hand came to a rest against the glassy surface of his beyond, so too did reflection Stan’s hand. The thin layer of glass being the only barrier that prevented them from joining hands. Ford began frantically searching for any possible way to break the glass, so he could reach out and grasp his hand against reflection Stan’s hand.  

  

He began pressing against the glass, reaching and reaching, yet still unable to break through.    
 

* * *

 

* * *

 

* * *

Stan couldn’t know what was going on in Ford’s Mindscape, but there was something that caught the conman’s attention in the physical realm. One of Ford’s hands twitched, and his fingers opened and closed against his palm. As if his hand was searching for something, but only finding itself clasping against air and the fabric of the blanket.  

  

Stan's eyes locked onto the movement, noticing how much he was moving. Glancing at Ford's face, it wasn't like a certain demon returned, his face didn't look scared. Stan scooted his chair closer, his eyes wider than usual, but not in a sense of shock, just in a gentle difference that happened. One of his hands touched Ford's shoulder, the other, nervously floating around Ford's twitching hand. After a bit of decision, he placed his hand beside Ford's hand, leaving it up to him if he wanted to grasp it. If not, Stan would probably try to do something. He wondered if Ford was aware, he was doing this, in wherever he was right now.  

  

"Stanford-?" His voice held a small, nervous tone, as he watched the heart monitor, which rose in speed a bit more. His left hand tried to gently nudge Ford, nervous to try much else. He finally moved his hand into Ford's, waiting if Ford would grasp it. He tightened against it as much as he could, frowning at Ford. "What are ya tryin' to-?" Stanley didn't exactly know what Ford was trying to do, but Stan wanted to do something for him and he couldn’t come up with anything else, so holding his hand would have to suffice.   

  

Stan kept his uncertain eyes upon Ford, slightly more on edge, as he was now partially standing up. Under the impression he might have to press the medical emergency button off to the stand next to Ford’s bedside.    
 

* * *

 

* * *

 

* * *

  
The glass of the beyond began cracking, Mindscape Ford’s gaze left the illusion Stan for just a brief second to trail his eyes after the fissures forming. His Mindscape rumbled lightly then stopped, leaving Ford stupefied for a moment. Then it rumbled again and again until it was so intense that it rocked the waves of the ocean below. Yet the Stan O’ War was still, as if unaffected by the violent jostling of the H2O.  

  

The surface of the beyond shattered abruptly, and the glass that fell away morphed into a misty ocean spray that rained down around Ford. It was then that he became aware of two things. His hand was now grasped in the hand of the illusion Stan who was still there, even after the glass surface ceased to be. And he was pulled upwards by illusion Stan. Ford soon found himself settled in the arms of illusion Stan, as he held him in a protective embrace.   

  

Mindscape Ford immediately went lax in illusion Stan’s arms, he rested his head against his shoulder, and he wrapped his own arms around him. His eyelids began to droop as the affectionate warmth from illusion Stan’s hug lulled him into a state of enlightenment, he knew all at once he must be waking up. His eyelids slipped closed in his Mindscape…  

* * *

 

* * *

 

* * *

Ford’s hand found Stan’s and grasped gently against it. His body began to stir, as a gentle sigh slipped out of Ford. His eyelids twitched tentatively, and after an undetermined amount of twitching his eyelids fluttered open ever so slightly, to what he could only assume to be the waking realm.  

  

At first Ford’s eyes only registered hazy blurs of light and dark. He had to blink several times, before his vision readjusted itself to the point he realized he was staring into the startled, yet thrilled gaze of his twin brother. Even without his glasses, he knew exactly whom he was gazing up at. It was almost surreal to see Ford's eyes open, eyes that Stan feared he'd never see again.  

  

Ford gave Stan a sheepish and gentle, yet blissful smile. When he was able to locate his voice he spoke, and it was in the tone of a lighthearted whimsical murmur, “That might have been the deepest and longest somnolence I’ve gotten in decades, and yet I’m still exhausted.” 

  

He was awake.... Stanford was awake---  

  

**Stanford Pines was back.**   

  

Stan's eyes were so wide they were almost hurting. His mouth was slightly agape, but wavering on the edges of the largest smile that Stan probably could give.  

  

**_God, he's actually awake, he's actually here-_ **   

  

Stanley’s hand that held Ford's tightened its grip, as his body slowly started shaking and shuddering. Stan’s eyes began to water, his heart coiled tightly and it commenced beating rapidly, to the limit that if he was connected to that dumb heart monitor, he'd probably break it. 

  

He was definitely  **not** telling Ford this though. His lips quivered, as his eyes squinted slightly. "S-Stanford-?... Y-Ya... you're awake-" His hand clamped up even more as he held Ford’s in a desperate need for security.   

  

His other hand however in the air, too scared that touching Ford would just turn him to dust, or that his fragile body couldn't handle it. Stan’s body moved, yeah it moved, but it was halted by what seemed to be an unobservable force-field, that surrounded the brother that he loved. Stan felt like if he even breathed on him, that Ford would just fall back to that stupid, stupid slumber.  

  

Stan’s watery eyes didn't bother to hold his tears back anymore. They quickly fell down his cheeks, dropping carelessly to the floor below him, as well as soaking into the blanket tucked around his twin, and some even splattered down onto Ford himself.  

  

Stan’s free hand, that had been frozen, now went up to his face, covering his mouth. It didn’t bother to wipe his tears away, that openly and embarrassingly fell downwards. His mouth sputtered out strenuously, a not-so hollow laughter, that shook his body in every way. The entire time, his eyes never left his twin’s fond gaze.  

  

Stanley didn't know what to say, or do. He wanted to be frustrated that Ford had taken so damn long, but he also wanted to scoop him up, and embrace at the same time in an affectionate sibling hug. 

  

The kind of hug that he’d probably do until the end of the world, just to make sure Ford’s there, that he's actually awake. And that this wasn't some awful dream. Those stupid words that Stanford uttered, it made Stan's blood boil slightly, that after all of that, he mocked his sleep?! God he was just so happy that he was here, that he was okay. And Ford tries to make what sounds like a joke?   

  

"T-This isn' jus' some stupid dream, right-?"  

   

That was something that was so, so stupid to say, but asking Ford this, seemed to be a good start. He struggled to believe that he was up, if he was. Either way, seeing Ford open his eyes and awaken damn near about made Stan want to cry for the rest of his life. For so many torturous days, Stan had been under the belief that he wouldn't ever hear Ford’s voice again, that he wouldn’t ever see him stir awake. That he’d never open his eyes, and yet here they were.  

  

Ford’s eyes were open, and he was speaking, and it was almost too good to be true. Stan struggled to get any verbalization through, his throat filled with trapped sobs, that threatened to choke him out by this point. Stan was captured in euphoria, but he was also so... broken, and all of this felt so wrong, but so right. He didn't know what to believe.  

  

Ford’s sheepish grin softened into a wistful smile, as he realized Stan could hardly contain himself. Despite the fact Stan’s facial features were fuzzy and blurred, Ford was able to read him like an open book. Stan’s emotional pandemonium encircled Ford, and he honed in on a plethora of them. From sheer unbridled joy, to nervousness, to slight irritation, and everything underneath the sun, in this case the sun being Stan’s soul.  

  

A vast amount more were still bouncing, and mixing around inside his younger twin. Some emotions that of which Ford himself wasn’t able to identify. In the end Ford fell under the assumption that Stan was a bundled package of all emotional outpouring known to mankind. He clasped his hand around Stan’s firmly, in an attempt to reel Stan in from his dubiety, to console him. “No, it’s not a dream, Lee.” He affirmed in an assured tone, his free hand tested out moving, as his six fingers wriggled.   

  

After he was certain he could move his other hand, he brought it up to Stan’s face, albeit shakily, and began to gently brush away the thick and heavy tears that trailed down his twin’s cheeks. “I’m here, I’m here.” His older brother instincts had woken up with him as well, all he yearned to do was in some way alleviate Stan of any pessimistic ruminations. He also wanted to liberate Stan from any lasting excruciating soul crushing sorrows, that he might still be burdened by.  

  

“I’m right here, Lee.”   

  

It was a rarity that Ford would ever refer to Stan by that old but fond nickname. It seemed as if it had been an eternity that Ford had spoken the moniker, even though he’d said it on the night of the fire, right before they'd taken the ambulance ride to the hospital. In hindsight the fire felt as if it had occurred ages ago as well, despite the reality that it hadn’t even been a week since then. Hearing Ford's voice again was a damn blessing, in fact it was like a miracle.   

  

The Universe had given Stan the most precious gift it could have. For the very first time in Stanley Pines’s arduous and rough unforgiving life, he'd been shown sweet mercy. The Universe returned his brother to him, and this time their reunion was one of brotherly love and warm-heartedness. It was the reunion with his twin that Stan had hoped for, but hadn’t received the day he'd rescued Ford from the portal.  

  

After all this time Stan was receiving the type of reunion with Ford he'd longed for, ever since the portal incident, and ever since the fire. It was as if the two of them had been plunged forth into the sands of time; and they were facing each other in front of the portal. And it felt as though they'd hugged it out then and there.   

  

Instead of a cruel hook to Stan's face, the memory now shifted into a pleasant sight of him and Ford embracing each other, neither of them wishing to let go.  

  

It was the very kind of hug that Stanley needed to give Stanford right now, yet was too apprehensive to do so. The nagging fear haunted him, preventing him from embracing his twin. The ever-paralyzing thought that he might shatter Ford into a thousand pieces, and that he couldn't be made whole again, was what forced himself to hold back. He couldn't risk it. He might be a conman of outstanding caliber but he wasn't going to gamble on his brother's stability. He didn't want to break his older brother, not when he'd been broken so many times before. He wasn't going to be just another catalyst that broke Ford again.  

  

Stan had frozen up and stiffened at Ford's touch, in a moment of shock, before raising his other hand up, touching Ford’s hand that was wiping his tears off of his cheeks. He smiled softly, before his throat started tossing out more sobs, causing him to shudder again.   

  

He felt like he was looking at thin glass, threatening to shatter under his fingertips. His voice raised unsteadily, as his frustration came out in a small burst, "S-Stanford, I-I---" before dying back down in his throat. “I told ya n-not to scare me again-! Ya can' jus'- ya can't just leave me, god... 'm supposed to be with ya, and ya nearly went somewhere I couldn' jus' follow ya-!" His frustration grated at his heart, his tears coming much stronger and faster. 

  

"Ya freaked us all out an’- Y-You... I-I thought ya were g-gonna d-die, and-!" His voice felt like it was cut up, like each word hurt him in his anguish. He remained distanced from Ford, leaning back ever so slightly. His hand, that was holding onto Ford's tightened rather strongly. Despite showing signs of anger, it was easy to tell that Stan didn't want to leave, or get into a fight. Those words all bled with an all too familiar tough love in his frustration. 

  

"Ya can't just do that t-to me... I-I..." His words tangled up in the anguished sobs that clogged his throat, as if a spider had spun a web inside of it, and his words were getting entrapped in its sticky threads.  

  

**"I thought I was gonna lose ya..."**  

  

His tears felt like they were filling his throat as he struggled through his words. His body crumbled in on itself again. All of his anger drained out of him, leaving the tired, emotional business out in the open.  

  

His heart leaked through his body, tears becoming cascading waterfalls, and Ford didn't think he'd ever see his twin like this. So, vulnerable looking. Stan's mind, as if recognizing the thoughts running through Ford's head, caused the conman to duck his head, leaving him even more vulnerable than before. He averted his misty gaze, yet he kept his hand interlocked with Ford’s.  

  

"I... already... lost ya twice ... If I lost ya for real, I'd..." His voice trailed off, as he faced towards the windowsill, obviously embarrassed over his whole attitude and sappiness.   

  

In the distinct reality Ford now found himself in, he perceived that Stan was seemingly on cloud-nine, but also suspended off of it precariously, feeling shattered, in every possible sense of the word, at the same time. Ford could sense that Stan’s heart and soul were in utter desolate ruin, broken up so much so that they were essentially dust, more so than they were shards. And it was causing him acute distress.   

  

The flurry of emotional distress that diverged all around Stan sought out Ford’s soul, everything Stan was enduring, Ford was as well. He could sense every last pulse of the unrelenting flood, so addled with grief and suffering. 

  

An unyielding gale fell over the jaded pair of twins, and Ford listened, in the throes of rue, as Stan manifested all his woes into a verbal torrent. He didn’t need his glasses to identify that Stan’s face was shifting, like the shifting sands upon a beach, rapidly in abundant contrasting expressions. As though his mental and emotional states of being were at war with his physical state.  

  

Stan’s face just couldn’t seem to settle on just one definite display as his brown eyes, that were once chocolate brown had now become a paled hazel due to his misty tears, stared pointedly down upon him. Ford was cast into a trance of petrifying shock. Out of all the expressions Stan's face settled upon, that he hadn’t been expecting in the least to read off of Stan’s contorted physical features, was dread.    
  

He looked terror-stricken, far beyond what Ford had ever imagined possible for Stan. He’d only ever seen this expression on Stan but once before, and it was three decades ago, minus one year, when Ford was viciously being torn away from Stan by the unwavering pull of the portal. He’d seen it for only a split second, so much so that when Ford ended up in the Nightmare Realm, he rationalized the dismay his twin’s face held as nothing more than a fabrication. Ford buried that burning memory away, far back into the abysmal depths of his subconscious.  

  

He had loathed it with every fiber and every atom that he was composed of, it disgusted him to the point even just lingering upon that memory almost caused Ford to become violently ill. He was all too uncomfortably aware that what he’d seen on Stan’s face that fateful blizzardy eve was authentic, but he rejected it with vehemence. He never wanted to see that harrowing and soul shattering expression upon Stan ever again. How cruel this cosmos of theirs in which they lived could be. It was so unfair that Ford was once again being subjected to seeing Stanley like this once again.   

  

The sadistic nature of Mistress Fate was unspeakable, and it was almost far too much than Ford could bear. He was on the threshold of joining his twin in the bitterly cold pit of his anguish. Remarkably he found enough willpower, that had been up until this point concealed in the core of his soul, to keep himself from succumbing to hysterics. His eyelids slipped closed for only a few beats, as he gulped down a plentiful amount of oxygen and then exhaled gradually. When he opened his eyes again, his gaze altered to a more crestfallen display of unease.   

  

Stanford Pines was ripped asunder in a heap of discordance, as his thoughts now galloped amok in the twisting and turning intricate labyrinth that was his mind. He was becoming undone, unraveling, and was on the verge of plunging off of the precipice of his stability. To dub him mystified would be a grave understatement, he was utterly lost, thoroughly and completely so. The heart monitor registered his frenzied momentary lapse of control, beeping shrilly for just a moment, before settling back down.  

  

A sensation of forlornness cast itself over Ford. Like a dark and heavy storm cloud, about to rupture and let lose a cascade of despondency, that would soak down into the very marrow of his bones. Ford Pines was terrified, terrified in so many ways that he couldn’t comprehend it all. 

  

His psyche reminisced on the recorder, and on the message it contained. The message he had believed to be his parting words, his last words, his swan song. Despite the fact he’d heard the reassurances of his family prior to waking up that they didn’t think any less of him for the trail of death he left behind him in way of self-defense; a heavy foreboding closed around him as a cynical intuition whispered grimly within him.   

  

A part of him was persuaded by the dark whisperings, that deep down Stanley must be terrified of him, but it’s not as though Ford could blame him. Stan was staring down into the face of a killer, a killer that was his brother. There wasn’t any sugarcoating what Ford was, he was a killer and he had blood upon his hands, but it was by no fault of his own. He hadn’t any choice but to take lives so he could live on. In spite of this, Stanford had his suspicions that Stanley was just shaken up because he’d almost lost him again. Stan’s words backed up this idea, and Ford found it more favorable to believe this was why Stan was so disturbed.   

  

Also, there seemed to be another nonverbal message that Stan was concealing, although he was doing rather appallingly in his vain attempting. For a man that was notoriously known for being the most grandiose conman in the entire Universe, having uprooted the title from Bill, Stan was failing miserably to hide his heart of shimmering gold. Stan had always worn his heart on his sleeve, and keeping his emotions in check was one thing the conman just couldn’t seem to master.   

  

Ford timidly pulled his hands away from Stan, and let them hover over his chest, as he gazed knowingly into his eyes. His smile, that had faded away, came back to his face. His smile was affectionate and understanding, he was aware of exactly what Stan needed, but was too distressed to do, at least not without Ford’s assurance.  

  

Ford outstretched his arms, and waited in a mix of anxiousness and hopefulness for Stan to either reject, or accept the invitation of his hug. He hoped it was the latter, rather than the former. This action harbored a study assurance to it, an assurance to his younger twin that he wasn’t going to fall apart on him. That he was here, and that he had no intent on ever leaving him all alone.  

  

A hushed murmur whispered fondly into the air as Ford found his voice again, sentimentally laced in every syllable, as he beckoned forth his woe begotten twin to him.  

  

“Come here, Lee.”  

  

Stanley’s thoughts froze over in his mind, as his body flinched while he watched his brother's changing facial expressions. He definitely didn't want to make him feel bad, that's the last thing he had intended to do. When Ford's hands retracted from Stan, his mouth locked closed, his eyes wide and worried. The smile that appeared on his twin's face calmed Stan slightly, before he watched Ford's arms open up in the offer of a hug.  

  

**_Nope. Now he knew he was definitely dreaming._ **   

  

Ford's words made his tears roll down even faster, falling messily down his cheeks, his eyes now rimmed red from the amount of crying he’s done. The tears thudded on Stan's own hands as he kept staring fretfully at his twin. His body shrunk for a moment, before accepting his brother's reassurance. Stan flexed his hands quietly, as if making sure he could still move, and then he gently caved into Ford's embrace. His legs knelt uncomfortably against the carpet below, but Stan didn't care. This moment between the two of them was something that mattered much more.   

  

No matter what Ford thought of himself, what he blamed himself of in the recording, Stan didn't think of him that way. Ford might be a murderer, but Stan wasn't clean either. Besides, it was all the past now, and right now mattered more than every other moment he'd lived through. Stan's hands ran through Ford's hair ruffling into a mess, as his sobs wracked his body. "Y-Ya nerd... D-Don'…-" Another sob, and arms hands tightened tensely against Ford, like there was something Stan was seeing that Ford couldn't. Like some monster was hiding just out of their sights, as if they were kids again.  

  

A small part in the back of Stan’s head made him remember an old memory, but it was just dull glow. He couldn't focus on it that well, as he held his precious older twin brother close. He didn't have a clue what the memory was, but he urged that it'd clear up quickly. "D-Don' leave me again, ya jerk." His breathing hitched for a moment, "It wasn' really t-that funny for ya to do!” His breathing shuddering into short gasps at the end.   

  

"It was awful-! Y-Ya... - Y-Ya suck!" A raspy, dry laugh awkwardly burst through Stan’s lungs, as he made an attempt to tease Ford, before breaking down into soft sniffles, his tears draining off the sides of his cheeks.  

  

Ford returned the hug though it was more or less a feather light one at first, his muscles were still in a state of sleep. He could feel the tingling sensation that signified that much of his body still hadn’t woken up yet with him. So, with whatever firmness Ford could manage to command, he tightened his hug against Stan. He rubbed circles across Stan’s upper back with his left hand, in gradual gentle motions meant to tame Stan’s discontent. Ford’s right hand busied itself by raising up to ruffle through Stan’s hair, mimicking the comforting gesture Stan was giving onto him.  

  

“I’m loathe to admit it, but I do believe that our great niece had a point with that bubble wrap epiphany of hers. I haven’t any doubts that as soon as I’m allowed to leave, she’s going to cover me with it head to toe.” Ford’s lungs expanded and deflated with a soft ache as an amused chuckle rumbled through his vocals. The chuckle sounded jovial, yet it also had an underlying hint of dullness to it. Though it wasn’t much cause for alarm, he was still recovering from his surgical procedure. As long as he took it easy, he’d be right as rain in no time at all.   

  

A contented sigh hummed deep in his chest, and his eyes began to droop, not because he was going to drift off, but because he’d never been this much at peace with himself for so many decades. The warmth of Stan’s hug brought back fond memories of when they’d cuddle up together in Fort Stan in their youth, or when they’d pass out on an old towel on the beach together. The shade of the Stan O’ War casting over them, protecting them from overexposure to the sun’s golden rays. Ford swore he was able to pick up on the phantom sounds of rushing waves, crying gulls, and the creaking sounds of two sets of swings rocking back and forth with a gentle breeze.  

  

Stan’s embrace was all the evidence Ford ever needed to realize that Stan didn’t give a damn about the kills in self-defense. Ford would even go so far as to say that Stan’s acceptance of that grim part of his past allowed him to come to terms with what he’d done. Ford had been punishing himself for the blood on his hands for far too long, and to imagine that Stan would be the one to wash it all away for him, it was just all so unfathomable. He supposed that he’d never come to uncover just how Stan managed to absolve him of all his remorse with just one compassionate gesture, but he had.   

  

Ford was grasped by a gratitude so bountiful, that no words in any language of the entire Multiverse, would ever be able to convey it. There wouldn’t ever be enough ways he could thank his twin for the blessing he’d just bestowed unknowingly upon him. Nevertheless, that wouldn’t hinder Ford from undertaking the elusive sea of endless appreciation he was now floating through. Serenity seeped into every iota of his soul, cradling it guardedly much like how his twin was clutching him protectively.  

  

“It’s as you’ve always said Ley, wherever we go we go together. I apologize for being so reckless, if we’d gone after Mabel together, I am certain that it would have turned out differently. We wouldn’t have to be dealing with this, the only issue we might have faced was rebuilding the Mystery Shack.” He paused in his speech momentarily, as he acceded into pensiveness, shuffling through the reels of his mind for his next words, seeking to locate the appropriate ones.  

  

“Stanley, I just want you to be aware that what happened wasn’t any fault of yours, so I ask of you to not blame yourself. The blame lies solely with whomever started the fire, and the Universe, unfortunately during the incident, dealt us an ill-fated hand, nothing more nothing less. I can assure you that there are several branching possibilities of scenarios that could have played out that night.”  

  

After he conveyed those words, Ford’s voice shifted into a softness that Stan hadn’t heard from his twin before, “Thank you for putting up with me, Knucklehead. I know that I’m a walking hazard, but I promise that I will do all that I can to keep myself from imminent peril. So long as you promise me that you’ll continue to save my sorry ass whenever I do end up finding myself in it. Mabel was correct to call me a damsel in distress, and also most curiously she seems to have out shined herself during all of this. I’m very proud of her, and I hope she’s aware I don’t blame her for anything.”  

  

Stanley pulled back, allowing himself to see Ford. His arms remain firm on his shoulders as he looks down, slowly stopping his tears. Honestly, he still believed it was partially his fault. And wounds like those don't go away overnight. But he was calmer, having his twin, who he cared for incredibly, finally be alright. His blame for himself probably would never cease. But... But Stanley thinks, maybe now it'll be a bit more manageable, that he could fight back again. He could try again. He could fight right back against those thoughts once again. A smile crawled across his face, a bit hollow, but genuine in its own way.   

  

He reached down to the table beside Ford, and handed Ford his glasses, mumbling a slight apology about not giving it to him when he woke up, laughing slightly. His arms did return to his shoulders though, like an anchor in the ocean in his mind. His smile was starting to become forced, but he pushed it down as he listened to Ford. His previous softness was incredible, like something he'd doubt he'd ever hear again, or that he ever heard it in the first place. It was strange thinking about it. Maybe he heard it once when they were kids, but definitely not any time recent. "M-Mabel, she's..." His mind trailed off, finding the right words. "She's a  **bit**  upset, but just like all of us, to be honest. All of us..."   

  

A pause caught the tension of the room for a moment. "All of us weren' really handlin' it well." Suddenly, his mind jumped to the two peculiar moments that happened recently. Both containing the piece of crap that was Pa. He wondered why it came to him now of all things, but...   

  

"Hey Ford? Why did ya, if it was you, why did ya save me an' Soos? I mean, 'm not even sure if it was you, b-but it sounded like he was talkin' to ya, an'-" His voice cut off, his hand reaching up and wiping a stray tear before placing his hand back. Looking at Stan through his glasses, he saw how broken Stan's pair of glasses were. Looking at them, he was surprised that they were holding together. One lens was almost shattered, and the other, cracked.  

  

A huff of amusement left Ford as Stan apologized for not giving him his glasses when he’d woken. Ford couldn’t have cared any less about not having his glasses during that entire heart to heart that they’d had, or rather were still having currently. “She’s going to grow up and make something of herself one day, I guarantee it. I’m looking forward to seeing what she becomes in the future, and Dipper as well, I know they’ll both become outstanding influences to the World. Dipper might have taken longer to cope with my condition, but I say he did fairly well given the circumstances. They’ve both been through so much, I often find myself worrying about them incessantly”  

  

He adjusted his glasses compulsively, finding that they were somehow peculiar, that was until he remembered abashedly that he had a crack in his own glasses. He scratched at the back of his head with his left hand, puffing his cheeks out in embarrassment for fiddling around with his glasses for nearly a minute because of his forgetful lapse. The embarrassment over his glasses was short lived however, when Stan brought forth the whole debacle with their old man. Ford’s placid grin twitched, before it tugged into one of a coy nature. He averted his gaze for a spell, as his right hand fidgeted with the corner of his blanket, pinching it between his pointer and his thumb, pulling it up and then releasing it to lie flat against him once more.  

  

His attention landed back on Stan, his grin now fleeing, becoming replaced with a thin not quite frown, but not quite smile either, it could be best described as a neutral resting mouth. Yet despite the neutrality of his face, a shimmer of sternness glistened within his eyes as they observed the damage to Stan’s glasses.  

  

“It was me, and it’s because I wasn’t there for you back then as much as I should have been. I wasn’t able to protect you from Pa because I... I admit shamefully that I hadn’t the faintest idea that he’d ever physically harmed you besides that one evening with the vase, but I... I thought that it was just a one-off incident and I---! I mean, I was fully aware he was very harsh on you verbally. However, I... I just didn’t realize to what other extent-! ” Ford struggled against his vocals, that seemed to want to stick together, as if someone had poured glue all over them. It took a moment for his voice to push through, and return.  

  

“I suppose that... I was rightfully vexed when I saw him assaulting you and Soos. 

I finally learned the truth that Pa physically abused you too, and I never even knew it. 

I was possessed by instinct to protect you. 

I wasn’t just going to let him do as he pleased to you anymore, not when I could prevent it.   

We are twins, yet I’m the older brother, and customarily it’s the older brother who protects the younger brother. 

I wasn’t the older brother that you needed back then, so I’m trying to be the one you need now. 

It’s not because I am pitying you or anything of the sort, it’s because I genuinely want to be here for you Stan. 

I want to, no I need to be the brother that you deserve.” 

  

Ford fell silent after his ramblings, as he thought back on how blind he had been. How had he missed the signs? How had he never known?! He should have picked up on it that day when Pa had tried punching Stan, yet it had completely gone over his head. Though in retrospect they had only been children, so it's not as if it was his fault that he never realized it, however he still felt guilty all the same. 

  

"I know she is. Mabel... she's a smart cookie. She's got her ideas, and Dipper's got his. They... they are hard not to like." Stanley frowned slightly, sighing. They really were something. He was glad that they were related to them _._  Stanley remained silent as Ford explained away the incident, all the while Stan’s gaze glanced away from Ford. Stan being unable to keep his eyes on his twin as he spoke. His hands twitched uncomfortably, and again, his eyes stung, and Ford thought he was just going to start crying.   

  

But luckily, Stan managed to put it off, and he turned back to Ford. "'M... 'M not worth that Ford. Ya shouldn't have gotten hurt because of me. That... that was stupid. I'm not worth your energy to be used like that. You've already done so much, I... can't let ya get hurt because of me. Ya mean too much to me to... to just..." His voice faltered, as he paused momentarily, trying to force his vocals to cooperate with him.   

  

"I meant everything I apologized for when you were like that. I ruined your life too much to do that again. Ya are my brother, my best friend, and I know ya want to be one that I deserve. I get that feeling, I've felt it every day of my life." His lip quivered for a moment, his eyes stinging so much, that Stan swore that the stinging sensation might just remain there for the rest of his life. "But, ya already are! Ya are already the bro I deserve, ya mean the world to me, and I'm not... I'm not worth that after everything that happened. Ya act like you're a burden, but it's the other way. Ya know that." His throat constricted, leaving no room for words.  

  

"I mean, I'm a mess, ya have known this for the longest time. I-It's not anything new. Look at me,  _I am the stan-tastic failure, that ruined his brother's life!_  The one who stayed up sleepless nights for 30 years, usually caught thinking about whether  _his brother was dead or not_ -!" Stan’s vocals shuddered harshly as his voice cut off in an abrupt and strangled manner, as he averted his gaze. "Sorry, I... shouldn' say that." His voice was suddenly small, uncomfortable.   

  

His hold twitched on Stanford's shoulders, as though he should stop touching Ford, as if Stan had the plague and he was going to bring more harm to his brother once again. The previous mortified and anguished expression haunted him once again, his eyes looking everywhere else, except at his twin.  

  

Burdens, such a damn scourge they were, a fiery warmth suffused throughout Ford. It was a blend of many emotions, so much so that Ford struggled immensely to understand it all. Alas, despite his arduous efforts, he came to the conclusion that he was devastated by an array of such voluminous sensations. Not even a minute had gone by when Ford came to find himself at the end of his rope. He just couldn’t make any rhyme or reason out of it all. He didn’t know if he should be royally ticked off at Stan, or if he should feel sympathy, or---  

  

Ford’s older twin instincts kicked into overdrive and began to shut down the emotions one by one, terminating them until all he felt was familial love for Stan, and the urge to take all of Stan’s negativity and absorb it into himself. Of course, this just wasn’t plausible, even if he yearned to burden Stan’s storm that resided deep within him, there was no conceivable way to go about doing that.   

  

Regardless, that wouldn’t mean that he’d just let Stan face his storm alone. He meant what he said, that he had to be the brother Stan needed. Ford realized after Weirdmageddon just how undone his younger twin was, and he had also concluded that Stan had been broken for over four decades. Someone who was as spiritually wounded as Stan wouldn’t be able to heal from all that heartache in just a year.   

  

It would take far more time and effort to turnabout the storm that had been raining down on Stan since the night he had been cast away by a family whom was supposed to love a cherish him, but had failed wretchedly. They had all left Stan to the cruel whimsies of fate, left him all alone...   

  

Ford had left him all alone. Stan had it all wrong, Stan hadn’t ruined Ford’s life, Ford had ruined his and what a bitter pill it had been to swallow. Ford always prided himself on walking down the path of righteousness, yet how could any path be a righteous one, when his first step onto that path had been the malicious abolition of Stan’s soul?  

  

_I... I failed my little brother. I did this to him... I abandoned him, and left him all alone. How selfish, after all Stanley ever did for me. I looked him in the eye and then_   _severed him from my life, and I didn’t even know for a decade if he was alive... or dead or---!_   

  

Ford’s thought process came to the epiphany that the thermal temperatures ebbing and flowing about him was nothing more than the numbness of his muscles wearing off. He cautiously investigated how much feeling his body now harbored, and he was pleased to find that most of his muscles had returned to prime function. With a prolonged inhale, he steadied his hands against the edges of the bed. He detained that breath in his lungs, which protested by throbbing dull with pinpricks of discomfort, though he vehemently denied to acknowledge them. He drew upon all of his willpower, shocked to find that he had quite a reservoir of it, despite just waking up from being comatose.   

  

Ford’s process of sitting up, was rather disgraceful to watch, it took much toil and resolution but he eventually sat up. Though he had to rest his shoulders against the hospital headboard, so he wouldn’t end up collapsing back onto the bed. He reluctantly resigned himself to the fact that if he didn’t use the headboard, that all his struggle to sit would be in vain. He reached out and gently cupped Stan’s cheeks against the palm of his hands, and carefully brushed away each and every tear that spilled from Stan’s eyes, not missing a single one. The breath he’d kept captive in his lungs finally released in the form of a repentant sigh as he gently tilted Stan’s gaze towards him. When his gaze met his little brother’s eyes, he shook his head in opposition of the words Stan had left him with.  

  

“I ruined my own life, Stanley, the moment I turned my back on you and drew the curtains closed.” Ford replied, firm and unwavering conviction now taking over his tone.   

  

“I’ve done a multitude of actions that have come back to haunt me, actions of which I regret my involvement in every single waking moment. 

If you were to ask the children, I would tell them that the biggest regret of my life was the portal and Bill Cipher. 

Yet that is far removed from the truth, the regret that weighs the heaviest upon me, the one I’d give anything to atone for, is leaving you behind.”  

  

His hazel eyes now held a glistening shimmer, it was a warning sign of lamentation to come. It was quite the uncommon occurrence to see Ford on the verge of shedding tears, he’d only been brought to tears once after Stan had brought him home. It was when Ford mourned over the all too real possibility that Stan might not regain his memories. The only other times Stan has ever recollected seeing Ford in tears were the memories of their youth.  

  

Ford had been such a crybaby back then, so sensitive and fragile, so prone to breaking down into sobs. All because of the people in the world that refused to take the time to know him before they judged him. More often than not, they’d judge Ford based on his six fingers, hurling insults left and right until it became too much to bear and he’d flee to seek refuge. The majority of the time Stan found Ford either at the back of public library or underneath the docks at the beach.   

  

But Ford’s most sought out refuge had to be either the cave in which they’d found the Stan O’ War, or under the hull of the boat itself. Ford moved his hands away from the sides of his twin’s face and rested them against Stan’s shoulders, each of his six fingers clutched against the fabric of Stan’s shirt.  

  

“I left you all alone for ten years Stan, ten years! Over an accident... of all things. 

I let my pain blind me and you paid the price for it. Your punishment did not coincide with your mistake. 

You suffered ten years over my project, something so insignificant... because I could have rebuilt it. But...”  

  

Ford could feel a sob forming inside of his throat, he swallowed thickly to decline its passage from his vocals up to his mouth. He wasn’t about to succumb to his woes, not when he had so much more to say. “I couldn’t have rebuilt you Stan, if you... if you had...” He shook his head, scrunching up his eyes, biting his bottom lip as he tried to keep himself steady.   

  

“For a decade I didn’t know if you were alive or if you were dead, that’s something we both have in common. 

You could have easily perished prematurely, and I would have been none the wiser. The only difference is, is that I only reached out to you for a selfish reason. 

At least you had selfless reasons when you were working to bring me home from the Multiverse. 

What and where is my excuse? That’s obvious, nothing and nonexistent, I had no right to involve you with my mistake.” 

  

Minuscule drops of tears seeped out of the corner of his tightly shut eyes, but they only remained for a blink of his eyes as he opened them.  

  

“Especially when I left you to suffer alone with your mistake, when I left you to the hands of fate. 

I didn’t do anything when Pa kicked you out, I didn’t even try... I just.... hid away like a god damn coward. 

I... I couldn’t hide away like a coward as Pa attempted to hurt you again. 

There wasn’t anyway in fire and brimstone I was allowing him to get to you, not after how you suffered when I stood on the sidelines all those decades ago.” 

  

His eyes had long since left Stan’s gaze, he wasn’t able to look Stan in the eyes at this point. His entire body was swarmed with excruciating regret and remorse; and it was taking all his resolve to keep himself from collapsing against Stan into a heaving and sobbing mess.  

  

“Stanley you didn’t ruin my life, I did that all on my own... and I.... I ruined your life. 

For constellation's sake Stanley, I estranged myself from you for a decade, only contacted you out of selfishness. 

I didn’t even bother to ask you how you were or where you’d been. 

Then I had the audacity to send you on your way, and out of pure pettiness I brought up what happened with West Coast. 

I fought with you over some dusty old journal. 

Not only that I told you that you ruined your own life, because I didn’t want to accept what I’d done to you. 

But worst of all I.... I branded you Stan. 

I left a mark on you that never wholly healed. It’s still marred onto your shoulder even now...”  

  

Ford had to take a few moments to breathe, as his lungs revolted against him tenaciously, leaving him temporarily winded. Once he recovered from breathlessness he continued.  

  

“Then when you saved me, what did I do? I punched you Stan... 

I punched you, and then I put everyone’s lives in peril during Weirdmageddon, by snidely correcting your grammar. 

You once again suffered consequences that I should have faced up to. 

I almost destroyed you, by erasing your mind. It's no different than k-killing you. 

I obliterated the memories that made you who you were. 

I essentially killed you, when I should have been the one protecting you! 

You’ve always been my shield Stanley, always guarding me, while I left you to your wounds. 

I could always cry on your shoulder when things in my life were falling to pieces, yet you didn’t have that luxury.” 

  

His body gave off light trembles as he neared the edge of his control, and it was slipping, far too rapidly for his liking.   

  

His sight was becoming blurred, making Stan’s face in his field of vision unfocused and distorted. As if he was looking upon his own reflection. It was a jarring perfect parallel to what had happened within his Mindscape. When he’d come to stare into the face of the illusion Stan that had assisted him in waking up. “You didn’t have any shoulder to cry on, instead you cried on your bottom bunk and I still didn’t do a damn thing about it. You didn’t deserve it, Stan. You didn’t deserve ANY of it, not a single damn thing that happened to you. Things that could have been prevented if I hadn’t been so blind, even with my glasses couldn't see what I had done to you.”   

  

Ford couldn’t hold onto his resolution any more as he allowed himself to fall against Stan, he wrapped his arms around him and clutched onto him as if his life depended on it. All the while he was burying his face against Stan’s shoulder, as the floodgates opened and he couldn’t suppress the dissonant sobs any longer.  

  

“I wa-was a stupid fool, not realizing how much I needed you. Not realizing how much you meant to me.  

Yo-you might think you’re worthless, but.... you mean so much to me. 

I know it might be unbelievable, bu-but I miss-missed- I missed you so damn much... 

I mi-missed you from the moment Pa threw you out, to the moment I asked you to go sailing with me last summer! 

I ca-carried that pi-picture of us on the Stan O’ War b-because it was the only thing that kept me from going completely u-unhinged.  

Yo-You were s-still s-s-saving me f-from myself e-even wh-when you weren’t p-physically ne-near me.”   

  

Ford’s break down in all truthfulness, didn’t feel real, it was as if in the blink of Stan’s eyes, that all of this would be gone. That Stan would find himself waking up, having dozed off again, like it was all some damn wistful dream. Just like those dreams Stan had of bringing Ford home nearly every damn night after he’d pushed him cruelly into the portal. He would have blacked out from exhaustion and had such a vivid dream of finding all the journals somehow through strokes of dumb luck.   

  

Then he’d fix up whatever repairs needed done on the portal, and he’d activate it and Ford would come through and they’d rush into each other’s arms and embrace each other, both of them sobbing and laughing hysterically like the walking disasters that they’d become. The fear that this was all a dream, and that Stan would wake up, and Ford would still be comatose, it was just all too real. Much too real that it may have just broken Stan beyond repair if that had been the case.  

  

Ford’s voice shattered through Stan’s reminiscing and it was fucking agonizing to listen to. Ford’s lamenting was leagues worse than any Stan had ever seen before. None of Ford’s record crybaby bawling sessions held a candle to this. Back then they’d all had some sort of composure set in place behind all the disparity. The cries that seized him now were entirely and deeply unsettling, they were null and voice of any remote sense of control. Somehow Ford appeared even more vulnerable now, than he had been when he was lying on his death bed. How that was even possible would remain an enigma, unsolved and without rationalization, forevermore.  

  

“You’re wo-worth it to me Stan, no matter what you might tell yourself or think. 

You are worth it, and if you think that I’m just going to le-leave you alone again, then you’re mistaken! 

I’m not going to abandon you ever, so you’re s-stuck with me until the day we both die of dual heart attacks that we give each other! 

I love you, Lee and don’t you  **EVER** forget it again!”  

  

Stanley was definitely stunned by the apparent breakdown, welcoming Ford into his arms. He didn't say word, not a sound, during the entire thing, letting Ford’s words wash over him. He rubbed small circles in his back. 

  

They stayed like this for a while before he decided to speak. He squeezed once, before looking at his hands from behind Ford's back. "God, you've became a sappy old man-!" His laughter echoed, rumbling through his being, and into Ford. "Didn' think you still had it in ya, especially not with what ya said about that photo. But... if I may correct you, that portal situation, with me getting you back, was selfish in its own way."  

  

His mouth tilted into a stubborn, but determined frown. "I chose a person over an entire Universe. That's pretty selfish, since I knew some of the warnings that could happen, from you. An' I did it anyways." He shrugs gently in his brother's grip. "An' I'd do it again if I have to. You're my twin, and I wouldn't just leave you in there, no matter what kind of anger I had in me." His mind trailed to the emotion behind Ford when he mentioned how he missed him.   

  

Stan wouldn't ever bring it up, but he felt so happy. Something about those words made him feel content. "Ford? I... might've missed you too-" Stan's voice mocked being uncertain, but under it, Ford can tell he truly did miss him. "An' besides, you didn't ruin my life. I mean, look at us! It was because of you everything happened, bad or good, but I'd say it all ended well. Well, besides... besides what just happened, I guess. We were all terrified, you know?"  

  

He wouldn’t admit it verbally, but Stan was still rather shaken up by what had happened. "An' that brand, while I don' like talking about it, it was an accident. I didn' believe it then, but I get it now. Accidents... Accidents happen." He shrugged once more, but tightened against Ford. "But... honestly, I'm sorry. I'm sorry I'm a deadbeat brother, wish I didn't do that stuff, but yeah. God, there's so much freaking dust in here and- yeah." He shook against Ford, his eyes watering, slipping down his cheeks. Then, he thought about the final things that Ford said, shuddering.   

  

"Challenge me, Ford. You mean just as much to me, and ya better not think about yourself like that, I won't let you. I know t'hell, it don’ go away overnight, all of those thoughts and stuff, hey I still have them. But I'm not lettin’ ya deal with them alone, either. And, hell, just try to get away from me. I won't be anywhere away from your side, either." His voice died off, cracking a bit, like inside he couldn't hold in his emotions. Eventually, a small whisper was beside Ford's ear, that he nearly missed. But he was glad he didn't. "I love ya' too, Ford." A tense, pause followed, as Ford was tightened in his brother's grip. As if he could just support Ford against his tears and fears. And hell, would he could try.   

  

Even if it was pointless. He was going to try, from right now, to the end of whatever. He'd be beside Ford, and it sounds like Ford wanted it too. At least that was what he hoped.  

  

It took Ford approximately three minutes to regain control over himself, and for just a while he allowed himself to be supported by Stanley. He didn’t want to break away from their sincere and affectionate sibling hug. A whispering voice in his mind imparted upon him that they’d probably have many more sincere sibling hugs to come in the following days, weeks, months or perhaps even years after today. Despite the trauma scars that would definitely be left behind by this, it would no doubt bring them closer together as twins.    

  

Their heart to hearts always involved them slipping confessions out that they had kept hidden, and they never failed to tear up during them. Sometimes they’d hug, or they’d place a comforting hand on each other’s shoulders, ruffle each other’s hair, or playfully punch each other in the upper arm. “Well if it was selfish of you to choose me over the entire Universe, then I suppose it’s selfish of me, that I’m glad that you chose me.” His voice was hoarse from all the lamenting, but it was filled to the brim with sincerity and joy. A strained chuckle escaped Ford as he pulled away just enough to stare into Stan’s face.    

  

“God, you’re right it is rather dusty in here, and here I thought Hospitals were supposed to be clean.” His mouth tugged up into a worn but beaming grin, his tear flow having all but halted by now.“Perhaps there will always be a part of us that will make us doubt ourselves, but I’m certain that we can endure it, as long as we’re together. Just like we promised.” For the first time since Bill electrocuted him, Ford’s lungs didn’t ache, it was rather surprising. There had always been an ache in his lungs after last summer, but it just wasn’t there now.   

  

Certainly, there had been times in which Ford had been so wrapped up in just having a blast with Stan that he hadn’t noticed it, but it had always been there. But right now, it was just gone, like there was nothing wrong with his lungs anymore. It was odd that the ache that had plagued him for a year had vanished, but hell it wasn’t as if he was going to complain about it.  

  

“You don’t have to worry about me leaving you behind again, as if I want to be anywhere else, other than with my favorite brother in the entire Multiverse.” Without warning he removed one arm from the hug, using the arm still holding Stan he pulled him slightly downwards. He took up the hand on his now free arm, and pressed it into Stan’s hair and began to ruffle it messily, a hearty laughter reverberating from him all around the room.  

  

At his sudden descent because of his brother, Stan struggled under the rough-housing of his hair. The attempt to stop it didn't halt the laughter that erupted like a volcano from him. Stan feebly tried to get his brother's hands off, not wanting to hurt him somehow still. That, was obvious by the way he fought back. Definitely though, he could handle trying to tame his hair again after this, probably before the kids showed up again.  

  

**_The kids._ **   

  

Stan nearly forgot the kids were still down in the cafeteria during their heartfelt reunion, his mouth opened, wanting to bring it up, but fell right back into soft laughter as he nudged his nerdy brother gently against the headboard. Nothing harsh, just a bump to show him that he'd fight back too. Stanley made a small huff, gently followed by a happy murmur, as his facade faded in moments.  

  

A small tear made its final path down his cheek as he wiped it off himself, before nudging his brother again, this time playfully in the arm. "Glad they weren't here durin' that. I'd have a lot of explaining to do over why Mabel shouldn't start screeching in happiness. Although..." He looked away for a moment, at the door. "Wouldn' doubt that you are gonna get busted in the face for freaking both of them out. I'm being nice, Stanford. Would've smacked you one too for scaring us, if the two of them aren't planning on doing that already." Stan ended his sentence by blurring it into a small chuckle.  

  

"Don' want you getting too messed up for scaring us." He shrugged nonchalantly his eyes peering over the room, but the room was a disaster. During the whole thing, Dipper's book was long-forgotten from days ago on the ground, the pillows were all around the room, and the blankets were wrinkled and scrunched up. Goes to show that they stopped caring about anything when  **it** happened.  

  

Stan would probably have to apologize to the nurse who gave them the room.  _And any cleaning maids who were set to clean this room, too._   

  

Ford couldn’t help himself, he was beaming so much that his cheeks were starting to ache. He rested his upper back against the headboard, and his gaze left Stan’s and upwards towards the ceiling. “Ah, yes, we are very fortunate that she wasn’t around for all of that. The threat of her shattering our eardrums is quite mortifying, then we’d not only be old, we’d be old and deaf.” He hummed out in amusement, as he folded his hands and rested them atop his sternum.  

  

His gaze remained on the ceiling, his expression shifting into pensiveness, as he was lost to his thoughts. His gaze came back to settling upon his twin and a smug look replaced the contemplation. “Mhnnn peculiar, I wasn’t aware that my knuckles would be sore... fascinating. Apparently if you have an out of body experience and you do something, oh say perhaps hook your dastard Pa in his face with both of your hands, it’s going to hurt physically later.” It took all his energy to not bust out laughing again as he spoke, his body shook lightly with repressed chuckles. He looked pretty damn pleased with himself, so that's why their father had been so pissed off. Ford had hooked that son of a bitch not once, but twice.  

  

Damn, their Pa must have REALLY ticked Ford off something fierce when he'd gone after Stan. It was a rarity for Ford to ever fight with brute force. That was more of a trademark Stanley Pines thing to do, usually Ford fought with tact and used his intellect before he made his moves. As though he were playing a simple game of chess, and not in physical combat. Obviously, he didn't even use intellect this time, this time he must have just been too damn riled up to even give much thought into his actions. He had just given into raw instinct and had given their Pa hell.  

  

The very fact that Filbrick Elmer Pines's form had horrifically destabilized after being blasted backwards from the force-field, was clear-cut evidence that Ford had been beyond the point of fury, with their Pa. Ford had been in the throes of utter and bitter loathing, and that urgency to protect Stan had manifested itself in the form of punches right into their Pa's ugly mug. Somehow the realization that Ford had shut off his brain in favor of listening to his heart's desire to protect Stan - was overwhelmingly touching. It wasn't often that Ford would act on just pure emotion alone, there always had to be some forethought put into his actions.  

  

Yet he hadn't done so when he confronted their Pa, and that right there just proved that their relationship as brothers was nearing the point of being just as strong, if not even stronger than it had been when they were still in their childhood and teen hood. They must be so close, so very close, to finally bridging whatever gaps in their brotherhood that still remained between them.  

  

Though they were still so far, one year wouldn’t be enough to fix everything between them. They still had a long way to go, but they’d face it all together, just as always.  

  

The room was quiet for a moment, before Stan's face turned to Ford, this look appearing on his face. The last time Ford saw this face on Stan, was when they were kids, being praised probably for doing something right. When someone said something that would do that, Stan would hide his face, or just react nonchalantly, but little known to others, besides Ford, who was at the business end of it, had a super excited Stan to deal with for days. Probably weeks. 

  

Definitely weeks long. 

  

His mouth started as a line, clenched slightly, before the words sank in on him, and it's probably the widest grin that Stan had ever done. There was no exaggeration about it, all of his features burst to life, and without a moments hesitation, all of the brotherly love that almost settled since their last words, sparked up once more, surging through his veins. This all was new. 

  

And that's what made Stan so happy. That he'd mean no rhyme or reason to Ford to just fight back, throwing caution to the wind. His eyes watered up for a brief moment, just pure joy, and probably, no, definitely a proud aura was around him. He slightly turned away to hide his emotion, but it surrounded him anyways. It wasn’t even contained by his attempt, as Ford could read his emotions just as well, even with him facing away. After turning back, his emotions slightly reigned in, he let out a hearty laugh that was probably barely restrained inside him, choosing to nudge Ford on his arm. 

  

"Took ya long enough-!" Stan got up from the bed, stretching himself for once since Ford awakened, and again, trying to let out a few more shaking laughs as he did it. He turned back towards Ford, the only thing that hasn't gone away was his dopey smile. It was still there, just as strong and sincere. "God, he was such... such a jerk." After a few relaxed moments, Stan let his smile fall gently, into a neutral expression, as he messed with the recorder on the table. Picking it up, he tossed it towards Ford. 

  

"That's yours, by the way. You can go back to monitoring whatever ya monitor on that." He laughed slightly, brushing off some dust on the dresser. "Either way, the kids will be ecstatic to hear you're okay. God, just be ready for your ribs to go out, trust me-!" Another hearty laugh later, and Stan settled back onto the bed with a thump. His weight heavily falling onto his side of the bed, as an old friend of the smile haunted their pause. 

  

God, will it ever go away-! Stan didn't know if it ever would, but if it meant dealing with that to be near his nerdy twin, he guessed he could deal with that. He knew he could. 

  

Ford didn’t even give the recorder a passing glance, instead he discarded it on the stand beside him and he reached out and rested his hand against Stan’s back. “Thank you, but I don’t believe that I shall be needing it anymore, not when I have you to talk to. I’ve come to realize that speaking to those who care about me... well it helps much more than recording my thoughts. Thank you sincerely Stan, you helped me come to terms with what I did while in the Multiverse....” 

  

A relieved sigh hummed through his vocals as he closed his eyes letting himself drift off into a memory. The memory of when he and Stan were sitting on the swings on the beach, while the sun was setting, the day before Ford was going to present the West Coast Tech Board his project. He couldn’t escape a bitter yet humorous chuckle that passed through his parted lips, and he opened his eyes shaking his head. 

  

“Stanley about what you said, right after my surgery, I can assure you that despite all the misfortunes I’ve experienced, that I’m content with where I am now. Even if I was granted a chance to change what happened, I don’t think I would.” 

  

A calming quietude fell over them and before either of them had the chance to say anything more--- 

  

The door suddenly flew open with a bang, and there stood their grand-niece Mabel and grand-nephew Dipper. The two of them had thick tears rolling down their faces, they didn’t even try to wipe them away as they stared joyfully at their Grunkles. 

  

**“WE HEARD THE WHOLE THING!”**  

  

Mabel stated her voice near shrill levels, filled to the brim with uncontrolled merriment, she was shaking with so much force that it took all her fortitude to keep herself from rushing over and leaping onto her Grunkle Ford. Her body language spoke loud and clear that she yearned to do just that, but surprisingly she managed to keep her pure excitement under wraps, just enough that she only rushed up to the side of Ford’s bed. 

  

She carefully pulled herself up and onto the side of the bed, before she turned herself so she could flop down next to her Grunkle Ford and then cuddle up against him, wrapping her arms around him. “Grunkle Ford!” Elated whimpers and sniffles of joy strummed Mabel’s vocal cords as she cast her gaze up at him, giving him her famous beaming grin that he so often so upon her face. Though this time it was much more pronounced, he could only recount one time he’d seen this grin upon her face. It was precisely a year ago, specifically last summer, the moment that Stan had regained all his memories, that’s the last time Ford had seen this grin on Mabel’s face. 

  

Ford felt an abashed warmth spread across his face as he took in what Mabel said, and he let out a nervous dry laughter. He promptly hid his face in the crook of his arm, wanting nothing more than to just sink underneath his blanket and hide away. 

  

**Oh, how embarrassing!**  

 

“See, I wanted to come back and eat the food here, in case you woke up Grunkle Ford! So, Dipper and I rushed back here after we got our dinner. We were about to come in when we heard you and Grunkle Stan talking! We wanted to come in, but I knew you two needed to hug it all out and talk to each other! So, we waited... or well I waited! I had to practically sit on Dipper to keep him from charging in here--!” Mabel’s explanation flurried out in a babbling gush of vivacity. 

  

**"G-GRUNKLE FORD!"**  

  

Dipper who was originally by the door as Mabel was, practically ran ahead of her, letting his excitement burst with life. His eyes were wide, and his heart pounded painfully in his ribcage. Fat tears rolled down his face, as he fell behind Mabel, tempted to beat her onto the bed, but Mabel wasn't being merciful. After a few moments, and practically shoving Mabel back a bit, Dipper managed his way onto the bed. He slipped once or twice, but after eventually settling, he jumped into Grunkle Ford, his voice betraying him at the worst time. 

  

He sobbed into the fabric of Ford's red sweater, his body shaking and shuddering into him. He knew he was frustrated, but there were so many other emotions clawing at his heart. That included this sheer feeling of relief. It overwhelmed his body in so many different ways. His frustration was most likely being transmitted into Mabel, by being a huge jerk in not letting him in. Besides all that, Dipper just knew he was so, so happy right now. "Y-You're o-okay!" 

  

Stan was probably just as embarrassed, if not, even more so. His face went red, heating with this uncomfortable feeling in his stomach. His head turned away, and a hearty laugh, drained of it's sincerity, acted as a shield against his own embarrassment. "Well crap. Ya kids need... need to stop... um, doing that. You're gonna give Ford a huge heart-attack." Both kids, and Ford, picked up on his own embarrassment. It wasn't that hard for them to see it, it was just as obvious as his red face. Stan decided looking at his family would positively kill him right now, and that the sky outside was beautiful today. He scooted over by Ford, before deciding to keep his eyes locked out the window. 

  

_Nothing's wrong here._  

  

Ford was left to his own devices, abandoned by Stan to deal with two tear-faced children all on his own. He hadn’t the faintest idea on how he should go about calming the two thirteen-year-olds down. He wasn’t well versed in the elusive nature of comforting those around him. Of course, he was efficient enough in calming Stan down, but that’s because he knew Stan like he knew the backs of his six fingered hands. He was aware of what to do, and what not to do when it came to soothing his twin. 

  

However, Dipper and Mabel were another story entirely, shamefully, Ford hadn’t gotten to know Dipper and Mabel as much as he should have. He’d only known them for almost a year now, and a year wasn’t a sufficient enough interval to learn everything there was to know about them. 

  

So right now, he was going to be blind in trying to ease their minds, which seemed in fractures, both of them just emotional wrecks as they hugged him like they never wanted to let him go again. He grinned gently as he placed his hands atop Dipper and Mabel’s head and ruffled their hair. “Ah Dipper my boy, and Mabel, sweetheart, I apologize for frightening the two of you.” After that gesture he wasn’t sure what to do, so he just moved his hands off of their heads and wrapped his arms around them and hugged them close. 

  

Mabel squeaked with amusement as Ford ruffled her hair and then snuggled against him after he hugged her close to him. She didn’t even notice Dipper’s irritation directed towards her. Instead she stared up at her Grunkle Ford’s face and gave him a serious frown. “Grunkle Ford, I’m glad you’re okay but---!” She reached up a hand and lightly slapped him on his forehead. “Don’t!” Slap. “Ever!” Slap. “Do!” Slap. “That!” Slap. “Again!” All the slaps were too feeble to actually cause any harm to her Grunkle, she just wanted to keep his attention so he’d never EVER do anything like this ever again. 

  

" **Ack-!** " Dipper moved his head in mock frustration as he giggled. He raised his hands up, attempting to re-tame his hair, however in vain it was. For a few moments before he got his hair back down over his forehead, Ford got a glimpse of his well-known birthmark on his head. Dipper lifted upwards slightly, batting Mabel away from patting his head gently. It was partially meant as a playful action, but otherwise just to stop the patting his head. 

  

Dipper's mouth was open into a large smile, just as genuine like everyone else. His laughter rumbled against Ford, and he went back into a hug, staring at Mabel smiling. "You need to stop being so brutal with Grunkle Ford!" He teased softly, enough Mabel barely heard it. He was pretty happy right now, if he had to compare it. Every breath he took now felt so free and calm, like he finally took a breath after being underwater. Relief decided to splash over Dipper, ever since they heard them talking, but this made him feel so much better. His tears, however, didn't reflect that, continuing to fall down his cheeks. 

  

Stan, who was sitting beside Ford still, grabbed a pillow and leaned it into Ford. He flopped right into it, knocking slightly into Ford, and then turned towards them slightly, amusingly watching them. Leaning against Ford reminded him of another burst of memories, but he didn't even bother to recall them, if he even could. This moment was enough. 

  

"And this marks day one of trying to get ya nerdy bro to learn how to get used to emotions again~!" His voice mocked his past version of himself's salesman bravado, which he even knew was fake, but when hasn't he been practicing this? He raised his arms from his place at his brother's side, into a wide, dramatic gesture, before flopping them back onto his gut. "I have to sacrifice you to the wolves this time, you need to learn to deal with this if they end up coming again next year-!" He laughed lowly, a quiet, but firm hearty sound. "Ya will learn soon enough, ya nerd!" He looked up at Ford from his place on the bed. 

  

Dipper’s words only elicited the response of Mabel sticking her tongue out at him, the girl began to poke her brother’s cheek, blowing raspberries every time she did. She was done playing Miss Maturity now, it was time for happy fun times! Now that she knew her Grunkle Ford was going to be alright, a serenity seeped into her and she let out merry giggles. Before Dipper could do anything to retaliate to her pokes she rolled away and flopped down on the edge of the bed and cuddled up against her Grunkle Ford, resting her chin on his shoulder, as she gazed up at him, her face shifting into a more somber expression. “Okay but seriously, Grunkle Ford please never ever, in a gazillion years, do that again. You really, really, REALLLY, scared me, Dipdop and Grunkle Stan.” 

  

Ford stared at Stanley, seemingly not amused with him in the slightest, his expression was that of frustration. Though his copper eyes betrayed him, shimmering with a sibling fondness he couldn’t conceal. It was obvious that despite his display of frustration, it was all a mask, smoke and mirrors nothing more and nothing less. In fact, Stanford Pines was quite content, he hadn’t ever felt this relaxed despite being quite lost on what he should be doing or saying. 

  

Ford shook his head and rolled his eyes, a smirk tugging at the corners of his mouth. He placed one hand in Mabel’s hair and brushed his fingers through it lightly. “I apologize for my uh... transgressions Mabel, my dear.” This seemed to put his grandniece at ease as she flashed him a beaming grin. He returned the grin, before his gaze settled on his grandnephew, he took up his other hand and wiped Dipper’s tears away. “I have a sneaking suspicion that I’m not going to be having much alone time after all of this; though I suppose I will just have to grow accustomed to it.” 

  

“Nope, nope nope!” Mabel’s voice chirped out in a sing-song like way, “We’re gonna wrap you all up in bubble wrap and place you in a pillow fort! And you are going to stay there until you are all oki doki loki again! Then mayyybeeee we might consider letting you take off the bubble wrap and leave the fort, but we are still going to have someone with you at all time, everywhere, everyday! There will be no ifs, ands or buts about it, Mr. I Am A Beckon For Disaster!” 

  

Dipper made a pouting face for a brief moment at Mabel as he crossed his arms. A bit after that though, he got up, moving over to sit beside Ford in a better position. He pulled up his knees and looked towards them, tempted to lay down, but tempted not to. He remained with a fond expression on his face, as he looked at his knees, and he tapped his fingers upon them. 

  

"Mabel, that's ridiculous-!" His response was half-effort though, as he playfully slammed his hands onto the bed. "But, we'd probably do it anyways..." He mumbled, with a shake of his head. They so totally would do that. Even if they couldn't keep Ford there for that long in a pillow fort and bubble wrap, and that it wasn't plausible, they were the Pines family, after all. They've done crazier things than that. Dipper didn't know if that was a good or bad thing, but he eventually decided that it was good. They were probably the strangest family in the world, the weirdest group of people, and the most spontaneous of individuals. That isn't bad though. With his birthmark and habits, Mabel's obsession with glitter and boys, Stan's dedication and thievery, and Ford's inventions and investigations, Dipper honestly doubted if any group of people could be much weirder. 

  

_Which, by the way, Dipper still found bugging Mabel about the boyfriend thing, still continuing as they were now technically teenagers, as hilarious._  

  

Stan who had been looking up at Ford, now had this cheeky, smug grin on his face. He stared at Ford's 'not amused' expression, before he let his gaze fall over to Mabel, giving her a thumbs-up, as if agreeing with the insane plan. "Mabel's got me around her little finger, sorry Poindexter-" He laughed whole-heartedly, before calming down. He closed his eyes, content. 

  

"The only issue is how we're gonna find that much of-" Stan's voice was cut short, in a small pause, before- 

  

**Cough-!**  

  

Stanley wasn't a person to be immune to getting sick in fact he got sick quite often, and now he found himself coughing out a storm, unable to stop for a few moments. He sat himself up temporarily, covering his mouth. Albeit, Stan would admit only to himself, not to them, but he didn't get enough sleep for the past week, much less take care of himself as he should have done. After the rough coughs died down, he rubbed his kind of noticeable sore throat, despite not knowing about it previously. 

  

At least he could admit to himself, that MAYBE he should've taken care of himself better while Ford was out, but he didn't really care. 

  

Ford stared at his twin before a deep frown settled itself upon his face, the sounds of Stan’s rough coughs disturbed his feelings of ease, like a pebble that disturbed the stillness of a pond when it was skipped across its surface. He moved his hands away from his grandniece and grandnephew and rested them upon his stomach, “It appears I’m not the only one who is in need of being taken care of.” He stated in a matter-of-fact tone of voice. 

  

   
“Dipper and Mabel, would you mind finding a nurse, it's apparent that my Knuckleheaded brother has skipped out on taking care of himself.” His gaze never left Stan, the concern in his stare was far from hidden, in fact it was as clear as a shimmering crystal. It always distressed him when Stan neglected himself, he was rather displeased that Stan hadn’t taken care of himself like he should have. Though he wasn’t shocked and it wasn’t as though he hadn’t expected this, he knew his brother well enough to know that this was going to happen. He understood why Stan neglected himself, yet even if he understood why, it still caused him worry. He feared one of these days Stan might fall to the throes of a chronic illness if he didn’t start taking proper care of himself. 

  

Mabel was reluctant to leave her Grunkle Ford’s side, though she wasn’t about to leave her Grunkle Stan in the misery of being ill either. She slipped off of the bed and went over to her Grunkle Stan and patted him on the back, “Now we have two sick Grunkles.” She shook her head and waggled her pointer finger on her other hand, making a tsk, tsk noise. “What are we gonna do with you two?” She turned her head towards Dipper, “You can stay here if you want to Dipper, I know that you were super worried about Grunkle Ford. So, if you need more time to talk to him, I understand. I can find a nurse all aloni on my ownie~.” 

  

Stan's mouth opened, a protest at this decision at the tips of his lips. "'M fine, geez, stop-" His words were cut off, and a small cough escaped him instead. 

  

Dipper frowned for a moment, looking between his two grunkles, then to his sister. A thought grazed him, before he slid off of the bed. He stifled a small laugh as he approached Mabel. "You'd probably get lost Mabel- besides, if we both go, we can probably find the nurse faster, then I can talk to him when we get back!" He shrugs nudging Mabel. He got a bit worried over Stan, but Stan's been through worse, and if they could get a nurse here quicker, it'd be better off for everyone. 

  

"It won't be long, probably just a few minutes at most, so..." He grabbed Mabel's sweater, pulling her towards the door. "We'll be right back!" With the rush of his steps, he seemed as if hinting at a bit of a race to Mabel. See how fast they could find one, that's what. Before the two Grunkles knew it, both children disappeared behind the door, and steps outside hinted at a hint of urgency and definitely a bit too fast for a hospital. Ford was probably preparing for Dipper's talk later, cause if anything, Dipper was just as determined and even at times, just as excitable as his sister. 

  

Stanley turned towards Ford, a stubborn look on his face, frowning slightly at Ford's obvious worry. "Geez Poindexter, I've already told ya a little bit about my past. I know 'm fine, no need for such a request for 'em." He sighed slightly, still content inside, but his stubborn expression barely covered it, a bit frustrated about this. His voice had no bite in it though, just his normal voice. "'M fine. There was no need for that, besides it's just a cough. Not gonna get any worse. It's probably just some stupid bug, it's not anythin'." Stanley mumbled these protests under his breath, a small smile showing up for a moment, before being engulfed by a frustrated frown again. He didn't look away from Ford though. 

  

Ford's expression morphed into stoicism as he reached over, and placed a hand on Stan's shoulder. "That won't soothe my fretting over you, Stanley. This brother worrying goes both ways." A faint smugness began to peek through his stoic display. 

  

"It wouldn't be fair if you're the only one allowed to worry, Knucklehead. As such with that being said, I get to worry about you too. Besides, it's my duty as the older twin to be concerned for you." He began to rub light circles against Stan's back, as he let his gaze wander over to the clock to read the time. 

   
It was nearing seven at night... 

  

Ford’s mind drifted away into the warmth of a nearly long forgotten memory. His mind dove into the memory and it played vividly back to him. It was nearing their thirteenth Birthday, it was also the upcoming one year anniversary of when they discovered the Stan 'O War. Ford had woken up alone in the early hours of dawn. 

  

He’d stumbled down from his bunk and went off in search of Stan. Only to his utter terror, end up finding Stan collapsed in the sand near the Stan ‘O War. It took all his will and stubbornness, but Ford had managed to carry Stan back home. Stan’s fever had been so fierce that he nearly had to be hospitalized. The memory receded and he was left staring at Stan’s grumpy face. A low chuckle hummed through him, and his smug grin faded away into a gentle smile. 

  

“You should get some rest Stanley, and don’t try to deceive me with a bluff. I am well aware that you haven’t been sleeping as you should, while I’ve been out. I’m not quite certain how long I’ve been out, of course. Though I can safely estimate it’s been a few days.” Ford sat up some more, using the headboard to support himself. He leaned forward just a smidge to snatch Stan’s broken glasses off of his face with his other hand. He then retracted his hand away from Stan, before he had the time to protest or reclaim his glasses. “Go to sleep Stan…I’ll still be right here when you wake up.” Ford’s voice lowered into a hushed murmur. 

  

“I promise.” 

  

"I-..." Ford really needed to stop calling his bluffs. Stanley made another face at Ford, before sighing gently, and getting up from the bed, shaking a bit. "You didn' need to take my glasses, I coulda done that..." His voice trailed again, before another cough wrecked his system. Ford was probably right. He swore that the clock's ticks had become louder than the last time he listened to it. His joints and bones almost seemed to crack and pop as he sat down on his bed. His eyes decidedly looked into Ford's, giving off a grumpy look, before looking away, laying down onto the bed. 

  

_Tick, tick, tick..._   _Tick... Tick... Tick..._  Stan just wanted the clock to shut up in the pause that followed Ford's words. It was annoying. It's like it knew he was trying to follow his brother's words, but it decidedly hated him for it. It was almost as eerie as when he had tried to go to sleep on those awful nights. But this time, Stan knew Ford was here, he was fine, and he was awake. So what even kept him up, god he wish he knew. Maybe he just gotten a pattern since it all began.  _Probably._  

  

"Ya better be, Sixer." A small glimpse was turned towards Ford, who was now in possession of his, rather broken, glasses. Shoot, Stan could remember him staying up late and holding Ford's pair. It unsettled him, but he couldn't help bringing that back up with the image. He turned his head back onto the stiff, cold pillow. Shutting his eyes, he really, really wished he just had the ability to go to sleep in an instant. Knowing that he was tired, and knowing he felt so sleepy, but he couldn't manage to sleep for the longest time. Figures. Stan's head felt warm, without even testing it. Part of him wondered about it, but part of him resented to bring it up to even himself, being stubborn. Eventually, Stan started to doze off, but not before turning a few times, and uttering a quiet word. 

  

"Thanks." 

  

Then Stan was out. After a few flutters from his eyelids, he fell into a calm and content slumbering. A few coughs perturbed his sleep at the beginning, and there will probably be a lot more over the course of the night, but he was alright for now. That was more than he could've ever asked for. 

* * *

 

* * *

 

* * *

The night passed them by, Dipper and Mabel had come back with a nurse who had checked over Stan without disturbing him. They concluded he had a fever, so in the end they had to wake him up so he could take some medication. As drowsy as Stan had been, it didn’t keep him from being difficult in taking the pills. Stan loathed taking medication and he wouldn’t take it until they allowed Ford to give it to him. After much gentle coaxing, Ford successfully got his twin to take the pills.  

  

Ford was under the impression that Stan would probably blank out on this event, seeing as he was so dazed. After Stan had succumbed to sleep once more and once the doctors checked on Ford’s condition of health and concluded he was fine, Ford had some time to speak with Dipper and Mabel. Their conversation mostly consisted of Dipper and Mabel crying, as they relinquished all their sorrows this entire misfortune had brought upon them.  

    
In turn Ford comforted and soothed them, learning what put them at ease and what set them off. There were some ups and downs in the conversation, sometimes Ford would say something or rather that didn’t sit right with the two kids, and they’d let him know with fierce protesting. The things they disliked the most is when Ford would fall into silence and space out, it worried them immensely.  

   
They also weren’t too fond of Ford still harboring the blame of Weirdmageddon on his shoulders, and they attempted to assure him that what happened hadn’t been his fault. That it had all been Bill Cipher’s fault, and that no one but he was to blame for everything that occurred.  

  

It wasn’t until 9 PM rolled around that everyone but Ford was asleep. Wendy and Soos had come back around 8, though they felt as if they were intruding on a private moment between blood bonded members. So, they said a hasty goodbye to Ford, Dipper and Mabel and after they expressed their joy of Ford being up, they left to go stay at Wendy’s for the night. After everyone else was out like a light, Ford took the time to ponder about his life and recollect the dreams he’d experienced during his comatose state, and before he succumbed to slumber, he decided that maybe Dipper and Mabel were right.  

  

Perhaps Weirdmageddon wasn’t his fault, and that thought alone brought a solace to Ford that he didn’t even realize he had needed.    

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> YAASSHHHHHH THE FLOOF OWL IS NOW OUT OF HIS COMATOSE STATE! THINGS ARE LOOKING UP FOR THE PINES FAMILY NOW~ 
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> And oh yeah no Stangst fic would be complete without a Stan twin emotional heart to heart! 
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> LIFE IS BEAUTIFUL! 
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> Anyways, this isn't the end our fair viewers! There's still a little bit more to go!~ 
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> Also if you're wondering: Hey what about Soos's grandma? She was out of state when all this happened. So no, she didn't die in the fire and we didn't forget her. She just wasn't around. 
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> We hope you enjoyed this chapter <3 
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> Leave kudos, a bookmark, or even a comment! 
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> Thank you for reading this chapter. 
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